


To Suffer Keenly

by seidrade



Category: Marvel 616, Marvel Cinematic Universe, Thor (2018), Thor (Comics), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Time Travel, Anal Sex, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, Body Dysphoria, Canon Divergence - Avengers: Endgame (Movie), Catharsis, Crying, Double Penetration, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Face-Sitting, Fantastic Racism, Inappropriate Humor, Jotunn Loki (Marvel), Large Cock, Lightning Sex, Loki is a goddamn mess, Lokicest, M/M, Magical Bondage, Magical Genitals, Marvel 616/MCU Crossover, Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Rimming, Self-Esteem Issues, Sibling Incest, Single Sex Jotnar, Size Difference, Size Kink, So Much Goddamn Crying, Squirting, Thor (Marvel) is a Good Bro, Threesome - M/M/M, Tugboat Fucks, Unworthy Thor, Vaginal Sex, Wet & Messy, mild dubcon elements, possible consent issues, welcome to the fuckpocalypse
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-29
Updated: 2019-07-02
Packaged: 2020-03-26 17:43:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 32,196
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19010701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seidrade/pseuds/seidrade
Summary: Loki drew himself upright, felt a shudder run through his entire soul as the man rose also.Thor?And yet not.His eyes were the same blue as the Tesseract and he was blonde of hair and square of jaw, broad across the chest and shoulders with a regal bearing and a strange, golden arm. He was hefting a giant hammer over his shoulder, and he was turning the Tesseract over in one massive hand as one might a toy, and all the while he was smiling with knowing amusement at Loki.“I must say," said the man who was not Thor. "You don’t usually bring me such nice gifts, brother.”





	1. To Bruise

**Author's Note:**

> A good portion of this was written in a mad frenzy right after seeing Endgame. (Let's just say I've never written 10k in a day before and I never want to do it again.) Originally intended to be a fix-it, instead it became a marathon of MCU/616 crossover smut. It's gonna get weird. In a fun way! All mistakes are my own.
> 
> Blessings to the Gremlins for encouraging this filth and special thanks to Spacehussy and ShineonLoki for the inspiration-- I'm so happy to finally join the Tugboat Fucks Brigade.
> 
> More tags will be added with subsequent chapters.

And there she was… the Tesseract. 

Coming to a gentle stop against his foot, nearly a lover’s caress. As if the Norns themselves had placed her there, intending for him to seize this very moment. For him to reclaim his fate. How beautiful she looked, his precious little ticket to freedom. He’d ever had a weakness for that particular shade of sky blue…

Loki ducked down and snatched up the cube in one smooth motion, smiling as much as he could under the muzzle as he let her power sing through him once more. The lobby of Stark’s tower and all its foolish occupants swirled away in a cloud of black mist. The last thing he saw was the brilliant red of Thor’s cloak as he knelt to help his fallen friend. Something clenched tight in his chest and he couldn’t say if it was the Tesseract or something far more malevolent.

He didn’t know how long he traveled. Maybe milliseconds, maybe months. All he could think was of finding somewhere safe. A soft landing. No Thanos. No Black Order. No Chitauri. No Asgard. No endless yawning void of space. Somewhere quiet and safe, that’s all he wanted. Norns, let him— 

And then he was stumbling into considerably less than a soft landing, falling hard upon his bound hands and knees, the Tesseract knocked from his grasp upon impact. Ah, perhaps that had been too much to hope for after all. His bones still felt thoroughly jarred from his beating at the hands of that hideous green ogre, and Loki groaned deep in his throat as his vision cleared, his first desperate thought for the Tesseract. Ah yes, there she was, still glowing, and he lurched upright with a huff. And then stopped short, as he realized the Tesseract rested at the foot of another. 

He took the scene in at a quick glance. He was on a vessel surrounded by many others, close to shore. Could smell the salt and sour tang of rotting seaweed. There was debris on the deck, an overcast sky, and a large, muscular man sitting not fifteen paces from him, drinking from a dark bottle. Staring at him.

Loki blanched.

_Thor?_

And yet not.

The man who was not Thor set his drink on a wooden crate and leaned down. With a golden hand that gleamed metallic nearly up to his shoulder, he ever so casually picked up the Tesseract, just as Loki had. _Traitor_ , he thought sullenly at the glowing cube.

Loki drew himself upright, trying his best to look collected and imposing as the man inspected the cube, then looked back to Loki. He felt a shudder run through his entire soul. The man’s eyes were the same blue of the Tesseract and he could tell not if they glowed only with its reflected light, but the affect was the same. The man was blonde of hair, cropped short in the way of Midgardians, and square of jaw, and broad in the shoulders— broad everywhere, really— and he wore no shirt, only a pair of black trousers. 

Despite this, he had a regal bearing, and when he rose from his too-small chair, Loki could see he was tall, so very tall, and the trousers were tight, held to his body only with a poor excuse for a belt. He was booted in the manner of an Asgardian warrior, and he was hefting a giant hammer over his shoulder, and he was turning the Tesseract over in his massive, golden hand as one might a toy, and all the while he was smiling with knowing amusement at Loki.

“I must say… you don’t usually bring me such nice gifts, brother,” the man who was not Thor said, his eyes raking over Loki as if to assess him. Assess him for what, Loki did not know— as he already seemed convinced of their relation.

Loki forced himself to hold his chin higher, to resist retreat as the man who was not Thor came closer, his heavy steps sending vibrations up through Loki’s legs, unmissable even with the slight lulling motion of the vessel. And then he was close enough for Loki to see that his eyes were indeed that piercing blue, and he was perhaps not Loki’s Thor, but Loki knew then in his bones that this man was _a_ Thor, nonetheless.

He knew the powers of the Tesseract were far-reaching, for it had shown him many things in his brief time studying and using it. Many worlds branching off from his own, many twisting and twining possibilities. But somehow, he hadn’t quite expected the stone to take him to an entirely new reality where this was the man who called him brother. And he bristled at the notion that he’d been tricked, somehow; that he’d been too hasty, too foolish to specify that it was absolutely _not_ to bring him to Thor. Any Thor, for they were surely all the same when reduced to their constituent elements.

But he had asked for a safe harbor and it chose here, which lead him to believe perhaps he and Thor were not at odds in this time and place. He wondered idly if the Loki of this world appeared anything like him, coming fresh off a defeat at the hands of Thor and his cronies as he was— though in the grand scheme, he considered it a victory. But the fact remained, he was bruised and battered, and he knew he looked drawn around the eyes, too gaunt in the face. Too long in the dark of space with precious little sun and less than little kindness. Like a shadow of his former self.

Yet for all Loki’s haggardness, recognition shone no less clearly in this Thor’s eyes as he approached, continuing to slowly take in Loki’s appearance. As expected, his eyes kept gravitating toward the muzzle strapped tight against Loki’s mouth. Loki’s own gaze darted to the Tesseract, and then to the massive hammer, and then back to Thor’s face. 

His Thor had warned him, back in the elevator in Stark’s tower, that only he could remove the muzzle. At the time, it had been a caution for Loki to behave himself: if he escaped, he would be left high and dry. Loki had scoffed at this notion, certain in his own abilities to work free of it, given a few days of peace and quiet to tinker. But this scenario was far more convenient, and more full of delicious irony, besides. Perhaps it mattered not _which_ Thor were to undo the bindings… 

Supposing he could charm this one into freeing him of the muzzle and shackles— and Thors always could be tricked— it could save him untold amounts of time and give him a delightful story to eventually lord over his own brother. Loki was almost giddy but he kept his face composed. Freedom was so close, he could nearly taste it.

“You are uncharacteristically quiet for a Loki,” Thor spoke teasingly, tilting his head in consideration. His voice was light in tone and deep in timbre, and carried the distant rumble of storm clouds. He was very tall, taller than Loki’s own Thor— perhaps a whole head greater in height— and nearly twice as broad. Loki wouldn’t have thought it possible if he wasn’t seeing the evidence with his own eyes, and it struck him suddenly how very vulnerable he was in this moment without his magic, without knowing anything of this Thor— except for how very small he made him feel.

Loki watched in suspicion as Thor set the large hammer and the Tesseract down a few feet from him— did Thor not have Mjolnir in this place? Was he unworthy of it, or did the hammer simply not exist? A thousand questions clamored for his attention, but then Thor was stepping closer, and his big hands were gripping the shoulders of Loki’s armor, and he was looking down into Loki’s eyes with a strange, soft grin.

“Tell me, brother,” he said in that warm tone. “What manner of scrape have you gotten yourself into this time, you fool? It has no doubt been a great while since you’ve allowed anyone to bind and gag you, and I should know.”

Loki’s brow furrowed ever so slightly. Why would he say such a thing? His eyes were drawn to the golden metal of Thor’s left arm. What had happened, to leave him so afflicted? A shiver ran through him, though he did not know why, and he met Thor’s gaze again.

“What secrets are you hiding,” Thor mused, and then he was bringing his flesh hand up to Loki’s face, and Loki held his breath— wondering if he was about to be struck or released from his bindings, but Thor only ran questing fingertips over the side of his face, down over the edge of the muzzle, and Loki shivered yet again, then cursed himself for showing such weakness. He could almost taste the ale on Thor’s breath and found himself yearning for a drink. He was worn, and tired, and too long in danger, and it was beginning to show on him.

Thor licked his lips and considered him, using both hands to tilt Loki’s head back. Loki instinctively allowed him, playing at being mild and unthreatening, though his heart was now racing and he felt his breath coming shorter. Was Thor about to snap his neck, or was he merely examining the mechanism that bound Loki’s mouth? He could feel the heat radiating from Thor, like a living star trapped in a body one might easily mistake for a god’s.

“This is very good work,” Thor was musing, cradling his jaw and tilting it this way and that. “I should hate to destroy it. Perhaps we’ll leave it on a bit longer until l can find the trick of its removal.”

But something in his voice told Loki that was far from his intent, and inside, he quailed. Thor smiled down at him, and it was not nearly so reassuring this time. “Do you fear me?” There was a darker note in his voice now, and Loki felt a cool wind stir his leathers and rustle through his hair.

Loki met the challenge in those eyes with his own unblinking gaze, giving no quarter. 

“Hmm,” said Thor, gone strangely inscrutable— which was perhaps the most disarming of all, as Loki had ever been able to read his brother’s mood in his brow and the set of his lip a hundred paces hence, from the time they were boys. This Thor was a mystery to him. 

And then Thor did something Loki did not expect. He cupped his hand around the back of Loki’s neck, as his own Thor was unfortunately wont to do, but then the other hand came to rest on Loki’s chest, and he realized Thor was measuring his heartbeat, still tripping far too quickly despite his efforts to calm it. Oh Norns, the wretched day he’d had.

“You _are_ afraid,” Thor breathed, and his hand gripped Loki’s hair at the base of his skull. “Or does your blood run fast for another reason?” He was close, too close, too warm, and that hand, so tight, and Loki felt something that was less a shiver and more a full body shudder take him at the power he felt Thor lording over him. Oh… _oh_. And in that moment, seeing Thor’s half-lidded gaze on him, Loki suddenly understood his intent. He could hear his own breath too loud, whuffing out his nose. Felt almost lightheaded, and knew Thor would see the rise and fall of his chest, too quick for a fearless man.

Was this… was _this_ what they were to each other, here in this place? The thought was dizzying and terrifying and he suddenly ached for it; oh gods, he _hated_ how much he wanted. And this Thor was watching him, entirely too keen, entirely too knowing— far more observant than his own Thor— and Loki felt a pleading noise escape his throat.

Thor’s hand tilted his head even further back, while the other held Loki’s bound wrists down in front of him. And then there was a hot tongue on Loki’s neck, and a sharp hint of teeth. Loki made a strangled noise in his throat, so near to where Thor was sucking on his flesh. 

_Oh, gods._

Thor’s breath was sonorous and heavy with arousal as he laid claim to Loki’s neck, holding him all but immobile. Loki stared up at the overcast sky until his eyes teared up from the endless field of grey light and he had to close them. More terrible, traitorous noises escaped him as Thor nipped at him, biting the column of his neck, and then at his jaw, below the line of the muzzle. 

“You don’t need to be scared, lost little Loki,” Thor said, in a tone that was anything but calming. “I think I know what you might need.” 

Loki was throbbing hard already. It had been so long since anyone had simply touched him without the intent to harm— although this felt like its own, new kind of violence. He needed to wrest control of the situation, needed to snatch up the Tesseract and get away quick, because it had made a mistake, it was wrong, this wasn’t safety, this was the very _opposite_ of safety. 

And now he was trembling, he realized, and Thor was unyielding and firm and too hot, far too hot, and he was releasing Loki’s hair and neck to hold his back and pull him closer, still devouring his throat, that broad hand spanning far too much of Loki’s spine for comfort; he felt so unbearably small and knew then he was entirely at Thor’s mercy.

Thor released the cuffs he’d been holding tight, brought his golden hand further down to cup Loki’s groin. Loki drew his hands up to his own chest, for Thor wore nothing he could cling to— if he were to even allow himself such an indignity. Felt as if he were both trapped and yet falling, no stability, no sanity— staring up at this strange Thor with a confusion and an anger and a desperate, treacherous desire he sensed would swiftly consume him if he allowed it. 

Thor pulled back to look down at him— his gaze was dark, so dark. He squeezed Loki’s cock, strong and purposeful, and Loki’s eyes nearly rolled back in his skull. A wheezing breath escaped his lungs, followed by an embarrassing noise akin to a wail as Thor began to knead and stroke him firm and slow through his leathers. Just how he liked it.

Oh gods, it had been months upon months since he’d— oh, too much of this and he was going to come in his trousers like a boy.

Loki realized then that he had yet to put up any struggle at all, token or not, and Thor had clearly reached this conclusion well before him. Loki’s Thor would have gloated, surely, but this Thor did not— although his pleasure at Loki’s cooperation was unmistakable as he licked his lips.

“Oh, brother,” he said, cupping and caressing, that voice rumbling into the very depths of him. “What _have_ you done?” 

And Loki felt tears prick at the corners of his eyes. A helpless, strangled cry pulled itself from deep within him as he stiffened and then came, spilling hot and wet inside his breeches. His mind went almost blessedly blank as Thor hummed and stroked him through it, unable to process anything aside from the realization that he was in very, very deep trouble.

After a minute, he came back to himself, Thor still holding a steadying, unwavering hand at his back, and tried to get his swimming vision to focus. For an alarming moment, there were several Thors, then they coalesced back into one— which was thankful, as one was more than enough for him to handle at any given time. Thor was licking his lips and Loki felt as if he should be more ashamed, more self-conscious at how little it had taken to bring him over the edge. But Thor looked only aroused, and that worried him more than anything else.

“Come,” he said, a simple and unadorned command. Loki was confused a moment, for hadn’t Thor seen that he just— but no, he only meant for Loki to follow him. Of course. He watched Thor pick up the hammer and Tesseract, then look back over his shoulder when Loki didn’t move. “You can still walk, can’t you?”

Scowling, the afterglow well and truly vanished, Loki strode slowly towards him, keenly aware of the sticky mess in his small-clothes. To his absolute horror, he felt warmth high in his cheeks as he approached Thor, who merely appraised him once more. The arousal in his face had yet to fade, and the tightness and softness of his dark trousers was such that Loki could see nearly every detail of the intimidatingly thick cock that had begun to fill within. _Bor’s blood_ … it was a curse as much as a statement of fact.

“Let’s get you cleaned up,” Thor said, as if the decision was his to make, but as much as Loki was bristling at being so patronized, he tentatively followed Thor into the hull of the boat. He had to admit that that perhaps a wash would not be out of order, whatever else was happening here. He’d cleaned himself with seidr shortly after the unceremonious beating into the floor he’d received, not eager to stew in his own sweat and blood and grime, but that was no longer an option with the cuffs on.

Thor stashed both hammer and Tesseract with not nearly enough care atop a mountain of… well, ‘garbage’ was charitable. Loki frowned as Thor turned in the cramped space, saw how he was nearly too tall for the vessel. Did the Thor of this world truly live in such a hovel? Piles of weapons and strange objects of power intermingling with empty food cartons and beer bottles, all and sundry… what had happened in this Norn-forsaken place? 

“Come here,” Thor was saying, and he had seated himself upon a sofa, having swept several blankets and strange boxes and what looked like games and a few more weapons onto the floor. Loki walked over, slow and methodical despite his physical discomfort. He wished he could just bloody ask where the Hel they were, and what year it was, and why Thor looked so lowly and fallen as this, and why Thor had touched him with such strange desire and even stranger kindness.

“Closer,” Thor commanded, and when Loki took another cautious step, he set to undoing Loki’s breeches with such unfailing confidence and familiarity that Loki took the step right back. 

“Oh? Did you not want me to get you clean,” Thor asked, and again, his voice was dark and loaded with meaning. Loki swallowed, thought of his options. He’d gone further than this for less. Whatever else may be the case, he had a feeling this Thor would hardly be the greatest threat this time could offer, but still, perhaps it were simply better to appease him for now. A pleased Thor was a malleable Thor. That was all.

Loki braced himself and stepped back into Thor’s reach. Thor hauled him even closer, pushing the layers of his overcoat and tunic aside, setting to the fastening of his breeches once again. Loki inhaled sharply to feel the cool air on his cock, and then before he could get his bearings, Thor was pushing down his small clothes and slicking his warm, golden fingers in Loki’s still-warm mess, bringing them up to his lips and tasting.

Blood rushed hot in Loki’s ears, and he could feel his cock already twitching again with interest, watching those strange, metallic fingers dripping with his own spend, disappearing between Thor’s plush lips. Son of a— oh Norns, they _shouldn’t_ be doing this. 

"You’ve probably reached the point where you’re thinking too hard and scolding us, brother,” said Thor, with a knowing grin, licking his lips, and Loki felt faint. “I would advise you to simply relax and enjoy yourself. You’re safe here, and it may be some time before I let you go.”

Loki felt his face drain of color, and then inexplicably heat both in anticipation and ire. Just how long and in what ways did this Thor intend to occupy himself with Loki’s body? The sheer presumption, the— 

But then Thor was wrapping his hand around Loki’s languid cock, and Loki could feel all the confused blood left in him rushing south. He grunted, forcing himself to stand straight and stare at the grimy, moisture-stained wall of the boat’s inner quarters as Thor used both hands to work him back to hardness, confident and sure, like he’d done this countless times. Perhaps he had. Loki could assume that the Loki of this time was still around and on passably good terms, for Thor greeted him not with grief nor anger, but this level of familiarity, this— 

Thor cupped his sac, rolling the flesh in his palm, and then he slipped those cool, metal fingers just a little further back, to that sensitive place just behind his balls, and Loki’s hips bucked forward at the pressure. A groan ripped itself from him again, and when he dared to glance down, Thor looked very pleased indeed.

“I think you like not being able to say anything,” Thor deduced, entirely too proud of himself. Loki glared at his presumptuousness, but he didn’t bother trying to reply while muzzled. That was a level to which he’d not lower himself. And if his hips snapped forward, taut with tension as Thor leaned forward to lick hot and wet around him, into the curve of his thigh, well...

“Don’t worry, I’ll take it off you eventually,” Thor was saying, between broad strokes of his tongue through the cropped dark hair at the base of Loki’s cock. “Save your words for once I’ve satisfied you, and perhaps they’ll be sweeter for it.”

Loki groaned long and entirely too loud when Thor’s mouth finally enveloped him, teasing his foreskin, then pushing it back with the cool metal of his hand so that he could lick all around the head. He let his eyes fall shut as the sensations overwhelmed him— he’d always been overly sensitive at the best of times, had ever struggled in the bedroom to keep his more visceral, vocal reactions in check. To maintain an appropriate level of composure as befit a prince. But after the day— nay, the year—he’d had, it felt like a rapidly losing battle. How many more defeats would he suffer before the day was out?

Thor took him in deeper for a blessed moment, and Loki’s hips rocked forward of their own volition. But just as swiftly, Thor was pulling back, surveying him with a contemplative eye. 

“Will you be able to repair your clothing once I release you from your bonds,” he asked, and Loki shook his head, holding up a finger. He took a deep breath and prodded against the restraints with his magic. He felt _just_ enough give— perhaps he couldn’t change his form, but maybe he could exploit that little loophole… it wasn’t really a working, per se…

Loki let his outer layers melt away, until he stood completely bare before Thor— save for the restraints. Part of him questioned his sanity, but the entire day was already so bizarre, so surreal, so fraught with unanticipated events and emotions that this small action seemed to be the least of his mistakes. He could feel the restraints growing stronger, as if reacting to his magic, tightening the snare, and still could not bring himself to care about any of his choices. He would have them off soon enough. 

Thor’s gaze felt warm and heavy on him, and Loki watched, wary, as he looked his fill, taking in the many mottled bruises and scrapes that would no doubt require another several hours to heal. 

“Let me guess…” Thor said, a little grin tugging at his mouth. “Avenger troubles?”

Loki narrowed his eyes and Thor laughed, pulling him closer. “Don’t worry, I’m certain they’ll one day come to like you. Or tolerate you, at the very least.” He tugged Loki down onto the ratty sofa, and Loki deigned to let himself be pulled, thankful that this landing was more cushioned than the upper deck of the vessel. He hated how good those large hands felt on his skin, mismatched in texture and temperature though they were. Normally when it came to being bedded, he insisted on finer surroundings, but it had been so long, and Thor was here, and wanting, and he was growing weaker by the moment.

Thor soon had him laid on his back, nestling his shorn golden head between Loki’s thighs, with Loki’s cock between his lips once more. Loki’s head was propped up against the arm of the sofa and so he could watch in disbelief, could put his manacled hands on Thor’s head, looking between them, past the chain, to watch Thor eagerly suck him.

What was happening, he wondered. Perhaps he was still hurtling through time and space with the Tesseract and this was all a strange mirage. His head felt as if it was starting to clear, yet he didn’t know whether to trust his senses, for the pleasure felt real enough. But how could it possibly be that he and his own Thor had spent over a thousand years dancing around this— and sometimes Loki wasn’t certain the dance wasn’t just one-sided— and here he was, not ten minutes into meeting this Thor who knew nothing of him, who hadn’t even heard him speak, and yet… 

Thor pulled back to let saliva drip from his lips back down onto Loki’s erection, playing with his foreskin, slipping it back up over the head of his cock, worrying the frenulum with the pad of his thumb, and Loki exhaled harshly through his nose. 

“Truly, Loki— stop thinking for once in your scheming life,” Thor’s gentle laughter whuffed over his cock, making it twitch. “You’re the one with the elaborate ruses, not I. This is exactly what it appears to be.”

But Loki had no idea what that truly meant, and the last thing he wanted was to admit his bemusement, so he attempted to look if not less concerned, at least more present, in the hopes of mollifying Thor— who had already turned his attentions back to Loki’s cock.

Norns, he could scarcely remember the last time he’d slept with anyone, it felt like lifetimes ago, and oh, Thor’s warm calloused hands on his cock, his balls, his thighs… he hated how comforting it felt. How much he wanted to trust it. How much he wanted to give in to the feeling of Thor’s mouth around him, his tongue coaxing him into a frenzy, how much he wanted to spill into that slick heat and watch Thor swallow his spend.

Loki’s breath hitched as Thor squeezed his thighs and spread them further, pushing one of Loki’s legs up over the back of the sofa, the other resting at the crook of Thor’s massive, metallic arm. Uru, he was certain now, feeling how it subtly hummed with power against his skin. But how had this come to be, certainly there was not enough uru in Asgard to— 

“Peace, Loki,” Thor rumbled, pulling off him once more, and Loki was instantly aggrieved at losing the wet warmth of his mouth, even if he’d been somewhat sidetracked by his endless questions. “Perhaps I will have to give you something not so easy to ignore.”

Loki stared as Thor rose up and began to work at untying his belt. The massive bulge in his trousers seemed not to have diminished, which was perhaps no great surprise, as Thor had ever been known for his stamina. But to think of all that being unleashed upon his person— for he had no doubts as to where this was going— was intimidating to say the least. 

For all his many insecurities, his own cock was one thing Loki had never had cause to be concerned about— save where it came to Thor’s. His own brother was exceptionally endowed, his length hanging full and heavy between his legs even at rest. Loki had unfortunately many occasions to witness Thor in his entirety, in all his unmasked glory, and it had ever inspired both envy and desire in him.

But seeing this Thor now, witnessing how his shoulders spanned even broader than the ones Loki was used to, seeing how his massive hands and thighs made Loki look like a boy on the cusp of manhood, well… he was entirely certain that even _his_ Thor would have some boyish envy of his own.

Thor had freed himself of his makeshift belt and was pulling his cock from his soft breeches, and oh… Loki inhaled sharply. He was right. It was _terrifying_ and Loki’s mouth watered at the sight of it. He stared as Thor stroked himself, a keen ache between his legs. He tried to keep his face impassive but upon meeting Thor’s eyes, it was clear he’d already given himself away.

“What do you think, little Loki?” Thor asked, tilting his head back, a hint of a cocky grin playing at his mouth. “Would you like some bruises on the inside, too?”

Loki’s nostrils flared and his hands clenched uselessly on nothing as he felt his heart begin to race once more, the hair rising at the back of his neck. Arousal tinged with fear had every nerve in his body standing on alert. By the Nine, yes, he _wanted_.

Thor rose from the sofa, the cushions shifting with the loss of his great bulk, and strode across the room to grab a bottle of oil from a shelf. Loki stared at him, at the powerful muscles of his ass, his thick thighs, at his stiff cock jutting out from his unfastened trousers. He was grateful that Thor had oil ready at hand, as he was in no position to assist in that regard.

Thor divested himself of his trousers and sank back down onto the sofa, which groaned at his return. Loki felt suddenly paralyzed with nerves, forced himself to swallow and to try and slow his breath, watching Thor slick his golden fingers. Thor was watching him too, a calm contemplation upon his face despite his clear arousal. He had a sense of control about him that Loki envied, which isn’t something he ever thought would be the case. 

This Thor must be older than his own. Older and wiser and far too attuned to him for it to be an accident. This Thor had learned something, somehow, along the way— and Loki stood to benefit from it. If this was indeed a reward, and not a punishment.

To his surprise, Thor leaned back over him and kissed his way up Loki’s stomach to his chest, nuzzling at his nipple before drawing it into his mouth. Loki’s heart was soon beating double-time at the slick press of his tongue, the sharp nip of his teeth, the soft pressure of his lips and the smooth tickling caress of his beard, all at once too much and not nearly, nearly enough. 

He let his head fall back and moaned— internally kicking himself for his weakness— as Thor laved his nipple with attention, then turned to give the other a similar treatment, sucking on the stiff peak.

Loki arched up against him as he felt Thor’s fingers arrive slick and cool at his entrance, and his breath came harsh and fast through his nostrils when one pressed forward. But Thor only teased him with light pressure, his attention still primarily on Loki’s tits. His free hand bore his weight, wedged partly underneath Loki’s back, and Loki looped his bound hands around the back of Thor’s neck. It was mostly to get them out of the way, but in doing so, he may also have inadvertently conveyed his urgency, for Thor glanced up from his chest and grinned at him.

“You’re so sensitive,” he noted, pressing a kiss to Loki’s puffy, abused nipple, and then giving another kiss to the large bluish, mottled stain on Loki’s ribcage, where he’d no doubt met the concrete earlier. “And so very pleasing to look upon, even in such a state as this.”

Loki rolled his eyes, though it did nothing to combat the hot flush that took his face. He could feel it all the way down to his chest, and Thor laughed, a deep and resonant rumble. 

“Yes, very pleasing,” he repeated, stroking his finger more firmly against Loki’s rim. 

Loki glared at him; now that he wasn’t being entirely distracted by Thor’s mouth, he was eager to get the teasing over with. Thor laughed, and then he was pushing forward into Loki’s body, and Loki was overwhelmed, drawing as deep a breath he could manage and shivering. Bor’s blood, he hadn’t felt this in a very long time, and oh— ohhh, by the Norns’ slippery _tits_ , this Thor had large fingers. He felt so full already, making him all too aware of how empty he’d been just moments before.

“Go ahead,” Thor encouraged, slipping further into him, and Loki groaned sharply when he felt Thor’s knuckles press against him. “Make all the noise you want, I like it when you don’t hold back.”

The way he said it felt strange, and Loki could only assume he was thinking of his own Loki, wherever he may be. But the thought soon fled his head as Thor withdrew his finger nearly all the way and then pressed forward again, crooking it inside him, and oh, he felt so unbearably tight. Thor’s finger had to be as thick as two of his own, and it had been so long since— _ohh_. 

Thor’s head dipped back down to his chest. Loki hit the back of his own head against the arm of the sofa as he keened, feeling Thor’s mouth set once more upon him. 

Soon he was panting and writhing underneath that large, solid body, trying to wiggle down onto Thor’s finger even as he tried to press his chest more firmly against Thor’s lips. He felt shameful, foolish, ridiculous, and so utterly desperate to be fucked, to be touched, that he could almost ignore all the other notions.

“Easy, Loki…” Thor was saying, and it was only then that Loki realized he’d been panting so hard through his nose that his face and hands were tingling and his head felt somewhat faint and woozy, blood pounding swift in his ears. Thor slowed his movements and pulled back to look at Loki, making gentling sounds. “Easy,” he said again. “There’s no rush, brother.” 

Loki forced himself to take a deep breath, and then another. It took a few moments to feel as if he was truly taking air into his lungs, a few moments longer until he could start to feel his face again. After Thor seemed satisfied he was no longer going to hyperventilate himself into a swoon, he buried his face in Loki’s hair and began to slowly fuck his finger in and out, letting Loki feel every last bit of sweet friction. 

Ah, there it was, that warmth blooming within him as he rolled his hips to meet Thor; Loki felt the sheer pleasure of it taking hold of him once more. Surely this was all some sordid fever dream, but oh, he was going to cling to it for all it was worth.

“Mm, you take me so well,” Thor was saying, low and encouraging, stroking his insides. “Look at you, so eager. When was the last time someone took their time with you?” And Loki was grateful he wasn’t expected to answer, blinking quickly at the odd, unwelcome sting in his eyes.

Thor was pressing another finger to his entrance now and Loki groaned, low in his throat. Thor laughed, but not with humor. “You want it, hm? You want me to fill you up even more?”

Loki jutted his hips forward in response, and he was rewarded with the second oil-coated finger joining the first, and the stretch— oh, it was so very good. It was almost cleansing, to feel pain this sweet. And he knew he would ache later, yes, but he was determined to finally feel Thor’s cock sheathed inside him, certain it would be more than worth the time, effort and discomfort. 

After all, this would undoubtedly be the only opportunity he ever got to bed Thor— _any_ Thor. 

Thor crooked his fingers, coaxing smooth and firm inside him, and Loki’s body snapped in a sudden spasm, accompanied by a noise of surprise. Oh, yes, that was just what he wanted.

“Has your brother been neglecting you,” Thor asked, and it took Loki a half-second too long to realize that he was simply repeating his question from a moment ago, only this time he’d filled in the name. Loki felt himself grow warm, inexplicably, at the nature of this Thor’s assumptions— the sheer suggestiveness in his voice somehow far more blush-inducing than the vulgarity of their current position. He was determined to stay silent.

“I see,” Thor mused. Another slow, deep press of his fingers, circling Loki’s prostate until he was trembling and dizzy with it, and could no longer contain his needy whimpers. “Then I shall have to remedy his errors.”

Loki would have let him remedy any blessed thing he wanted at that point.

Thor worked him open patiently, far too patiently for Loki’s liking, and soon Loki found himself all but growling in his mounting frustration. _Enough_ , he wanted to snap, tears pricking at his eyes. _End this!_

Finally, Thor seemed to take heed of the tension in his body— at the fact he was swiftly becoming less relaxed, not more, and he settled back, pulling himself upright. Loki watched as he stroked himself, coating his hard cock in oil. It gleamed meanly in the soft light of the cabin, and Loki felt himself salivating once more. This was what he wanted. What he _needed_ , though there was thankfully no need to divulge that. He could take everything this Thor had to offer, including his own freedom at the end of it.

He felt Thor’s cock-head against him, slippery and warm, his skin velvet soft, though that was the only thing about him that could be called such. And then Thor gave a low grunt as he pushed forward, a hand on Loki’s spread thigh, and Loki felt the air leave his lungs as he was breached.

Even with the obnoxiously-thorough preparation, he felt pushed to his limits. If his magic was not dampened, Loki would have been able to shift just a little, ease the way— but he found he once more _craved_ the delicious torment.

 _Yes_ , he wanted to hiss. _Give me every last inch and make it count,_ damn _you._

“Breathe,” Thor encouraged him again, voice rough, and Loki realized he’d actually stopped this time. He grudgingly obeyed, drawing in a deep breath through flared nostrils as Thor pressed forward, too fast, oh much too fast, but all the more perfect for the pain. Filling him so completely, leaving no room for thoughts of anything else.

Naturally, that’s when his mind decided to drift to his own Thor— to the look on his beautiful, golden face as he tried to plead, to reason with Loki in the midst of their combat. The sorrow and frustration, the maddening incomprehension in his eyes as he’d put the muzzle to Loki’s face. As if he no longer even felt the sting of the dagger Loki had buried in his flesh.

Loki pulled himself away from those thoughts, instead focused on the burn in his core as Thor began to roll his hips, the glorious drag of that cock deep within him setting him alight. This was what he wanted— to lose himself in that feeling, and how much better was this, really. A Thor not of his own time, a Thor by whom he could simply let himself be fucked, thoroughly, and then take his leave. Never to be burdened with those pitying looks, those foolish appeals to his better nature. This was better than anything he could ever have planned— although perhaps less than a complete triumph, knowing this Thor had already been broken by another Loki. Already deemed unworthy.

Still, there was only so much one could hope to accomplish in a single day; right now, all Loki wanted was to stop thinking.

Thor seemed to realize this need, for he settled one of Loki’s legs more properly over his shoulder and leaned in, bending Loki ever more in two. Loki cried out beneath his gag— the action had forced Thor’s cock deeper still and despite the tight fit, Thor was fucking into him even harder now, his great body surging and rippling as it did in battle. 

“You test my patience, little thing,” he groaned, gritting his teeth. “You would tempt me to ruin you.”

“Please,” Loki tried to speak for the first time, but it came out entirely muffled and garbled by the muzzle, and in the safety of that anonymity, he found himself crying out, “Please, Thor— gods, _please_.”

It’s all he’d ever wanted.

Thor growled at the sound of his voice, then suddenly grabbed him and flipped him over, pushing his shoulders down and his ass into the air, thrusting back into him with one mighty push. Loki wailed as Thor fucked him harder still, almost punishing in his pace, the smack of his balls and the bruising grip on Loki’s hips only adding to Loki’s delirium. 

“Thor,” he moaned, his words lost, but he knew Thor would recognize the sound of his own name. Knew it should drive him to frenzy. 

“Brother,” Thor groaned. “Brother, you would drive me to madness.” And though he’d already addressed Loki as such, hearing him speak it again in that tone nearly put Loki into a full-bodied spasm of pleasure. Oh, it felt so perfectly foul coming from that mouth, and he imagined it were his own Thor holding him down, filth spilling from his lips. He tried to meet Thor’s thrusts with his own, matching his rhythm, feeling the force of their fucking rattle every last one of his sore joints and bruise him anew. 

“He’s a fool,” Thor groaned then, and then, before Loki could follow the thought, much less shoot him any kind of warning glare, “Your Thor is a _fool_. Anyone with eyes could see how gladly you’d open your legs for him, how you crave his touch.”

Loki recoiled, feeling panic rising in his throat— how did he, how _dare_ — but Thor held him down, fucking deeper still, and it was all he could do to keep breathing.

“You want me to give you what he cannot?” Thor groaned, pressing down over him and biting at his shoulder. Loki jerked under his touch and Thor pulled back, laughing in breathless fashion. “Yes, think of him if you like. I’m sure he seeks you now, doesn’t he? Wishing he could hold you close and fuck you as I do? Longing to take a nice, thick bite out of you. What stops him? Is he too much of a coward?”

Loki was all but trembling, in anger or anticipation or something else entirely, he couldn’t say, and then Thor was growling again. “Shall I send you back to him dripping with my spend? Smelling of my sweat? Shall we make him so jealous to know I’ve had you that he bends you over and fucks you where you stand? Until you drip with the two of us combined? I bet you _would_ like that, you glorious little cur.”

Loki hated how deeply the arousal bloomed within him at these words, how uncannily this Thor seemed to understand his desires and how bitterly unfair that Loki’s own Thor would never know him so. Know how keenly he wished for that very thing— yes, if only _his_ Thor would look at him with fierceness and rage when he saw what slick mess waited between Loki’s thighs. If only _he_ would claim him with the same fervor and wrath that Loki had for him, if only it would destroy his brother and him alike, a shared poison bubbling in their blood, frothing at their mouths, yes, yes— 

Thor moaned and ground his hips in a deep circle, hard against Loki’s body, and Loki gasped in the cage of his muzzle, yes, right there, right _there_. It seemed again this Thor could very nearly read his mind, for he grunted and pummeled Loki relentlessly in that spot, over and over, until Loki could barely see straight and his throat was raw from the whines and shrieks being ripped from it. 

“How shall he know which bruises are mine,” Thor was gritting out. “He will not— be able to see the ones I leave inside, no— ahhh— those are for you alone, brother. We must give him something else to remember me by, mustn’t we.”

And then Loki, through the haze of pain and pleasure and agony at Thor’s words, felt the strangest sensation crawling across his skin, a foreign buzzing, all the hair on his body standing on end, and he screamed in surprise as white hot pain lanced across the skin of his lower back and up his spine, crackling and burning. 

Thor was gripping his hips hard and growling, and Loki inhaled ozone, heady and thick like the musk of sex. He moaned as his head spun, lost in the haze of sensation, but arced his back in a silent request. He wanted _more_. 

He didn’t have to wait long. 

Thor marked him twice more— once at his shoulder, as he bit down again into Loki’s bruised flesh, and then once with the lighting crackling up through the skin of his lower belly, the sensation piercing deep into Loki’s core. Each time he screamed, but the third time he whited out, and only realized when he blinked back into consciousness that he had come all over himself yet again, the mess dripping down his chest, sliding towards his neck. 

Thor let go of Loki’s cock and put both hands tight on his hips for a few more brutal slams.

“Brother,” he groaned. “Sweet, _beautiful_ brother.”

Then pushed deep in him with a heavy groan and spilled, thick and full. Loki could feel the powerful throb of him, the gush of his spend burning hot like comet trails, and shuddered. Thor milked himself for several moments longer, each jerk of his cock making Loki shake, and then finally he was withdrawing, a long, agonized sound pulling itself from Loki’s chest in tandem.

“So beautiful,” Thor was saying, a little out of breath, voice rough in texture but soft in tone and Loki could not bear to face him. He smoothed a large hand over Loki’s bruised ass, slipping fingers down to press back into Loki’s soft, swollen hole. 

Loki whimpered— it took him a moment to realize Thor was pushing his own come back inside him. 

“You should rest now,” Thor was saying, sounding almost distracted as his fingers swirled around Loki’s sensitive rim, and Loki shivered. “Yes… I have the feeling you’ve had a very long day.” But despite his words, he didn’t pull away, and soon Loki was making soft pathetic whines, hating himself as he angled his hips back up into Thor’s hand. Begging for more. For anything Thor would deign to give to him.

“Bor’s Blood, you are dangerous,” Thor breathed, smoothing over Loki’s skin with his other hand. Loki hissed as his fingertips trailed over the skin that Thor had marked— he wondered what it looked like, for it felt much like a sunburn, sensitive and raw. But nothing could distract him from the sweet, slick wet feeling of Thor’s fingers plundering him, working his come deeper into him.

“That’s it,” Thor soothed, entirely too gentle. “Yes, Loki. Look how sweetly you arch and beg for me. Such a deep thirst for such a little thing.”

Loki made an impotent, faint sound of frustration, but Thor didn’t relent. “He would want me to take care of your every need, would he not? I’m sure of it.” Loki whined, unable to think clearly as Thor leaned down to press an open-mouthed kiss to his hip, his beard soft and his lips hot and his tongue wet. Damn him.

“Yes, he would desire all this and more,” Thor murmured, low, but Loki could hear every word. “In his heart, he knows there is nothing he wouldn’t do to have you.”

By now, Loki’d had quite enough of this talk, but it was hard to muster the energy to complain when Thor was fingering him so perfect, slow and slick— too much of his rage had been exorcised, and he felt altogether limp and pliant. 

Finally he cried out when Thor circled his prostate in the same slow, deep circle as before, and spilled for the third time, most of his spend landing on the sofa now that Thor wasn’t there to angle his cock up to his chest. He lay crouched there in a daze as Thor pulled free— he could hear the sound of him licking his fingers.

“Stay,” Thor said. “I will fetch a rag to clean you.” And then the sound of his footsteps receding, and Loki became aware again of the soft lulling motion of the boat, and of the gentle noises of the ocean outside. He’d quite forgotten where he was— but couldn’t bring himself to care about anything at the moment, so thoroughly boneless in a way he hadn’t experienced in… well, centuries, he was fairly certain. Not since that ultimately ill-fated tryst with Fandral. And this encounter was already so very much more than that, in every way.

He was brought back by the sensation of a warm, wet cloth on his thighs, between his legs— so unbearably intimate it made him shudder— and then Thor was coaxing him onto his back so he could wipe Loki’s chest and cock clean. “Up now,” he urged, and Loki realized belatedly he was scrubbing at the fabric of the couch as well. “I’ll lay a blanket down.”

He somehow scooped Loki halfway-up with one arm and laid the blanket on the sofa, then laid him back upon it. Despite his languor, Loki was not about to fall asleep in his presence, and he forced himself to sit up, feeling a bit of his energy returning now that he wasn’t reclined. Thor disposed of the rag and then came to sit next to him, still naked as the day he was born. 

They considered each other, and Loki fought not to squirm under his gaze. Making others squirm uncomfortably was his job, by all rights. Besides, he had to focus on trying to keep himself clenched, to avoid dripping in the manner Thor had earlier described. His face flamed to think of it, and Thor gave him a little knowing look, not so different from his own brother’s.

“You miss him,” he said, and Loki glowered at him. “It is not a weakness,” Thor continued, putting a hand over one of Loki’s, where it rested on his thigh. “Though I can see you still believe it so. But if it must be weakness, it is one you share. Even in my darkest moments of rage toward my brother, I have never stopped yearning for him. Do you understand?”

He brushed some of Loki’s hair back from his face, and Loki narrowed his eyes, but he did not pull away. He was not entirely certain he wanted to hear more of this, but part of him clamored to possess all the secrets this strange Thor would offer up— for what if he _could_ give insight into his own Thor’s reckless mind? It was certainly foolish to hope, but he’d never felt more a fool than these last many days.

Thor moved his heavy hand to Loki’s shoulder, smiling soft, his dimples just visible above his dark golden beard. “Perhaps one day you will believe me,” he murmured, then traced the skin where he had left bite marks and more besides. “One day you will let him love you, and he will rise to the challenge.” Loki frowned but again, he stayed as he was. Perhaps in his afterglow, Thor would continue to spill other, more useful secrets... some clues to their whereabouts, perhaps.

“My, _my_. What’s this now,” came a mellifluous voice, and Loki straightened, instantly alert as he surreptitiously glanced around to locate its uncertain source. “Ah, I’ve been warming my own bed, how very thoughtful of me.”

_Shit._

In hindsight, perhaps he should have seen this coming…


	2. To Sheathe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Other Loki smiled after a moment. 
> 
> “Whatever you did,” he murmured, “I promise you, boy, I’ve done ten times worse.” 
> 
> Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He very much doubted that was the case.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please observe the new tags for this chapter! >:) And big thanks to Raven for helping me sort out the structure of this ridiculous smut marathon-- what would I do without you, bud.

Loki held his breath as the air in the middle of the room shimmered and coalesced into a body. And then, as his wretched luck would have it, he was staring at what he imagined passed for _himself_ in this world. 

This was quickly becoming the longest day of his life.

The other Loki had long, somewhat unkempt hair and an understated horned diadem in place of a helm. He wore a shabby, fur-trimmed frock coat and tight, dark breeches with a shirt of scaled armor; an ensemble that might have once looked regal. His gloves were ripped at the edges and missing their fingers, exposing black-varnished nails. Clearly these fallen princes were a matching set, Loki mused to himself. The other him looked almost feral— his handsome features dark and intense. Yet there was no malevolence upon them, only a quiet, wry amusement. 

Loki didn’t blame him— he wanted to laugh as well, but if he started, he might not stop.

“Ah, brother,” Thor acknowledged, seemingly unbothered at being caught red-handed with the wrong Loki. “Look who dropped in while I was waiting for you.”

“I’m looking,” the Other Loki said, licking his lips and crossing his arms. He didn’t seem at all surprised to see Loki, which was more unnerving than not. “And even if I wasn’t, I’d have known you had company by the smell. It absolutely reeks of sex in here.” He didn’t seem terribly dismayed by this— on the contrary, he seemed to approve. “Though I’ve never seen those restraints before; have you been holding out on me?”

“I thought you weren’t so fond of being bound these days.” Thor said pointedly, slinging a heavy arm around Loki’s shoulders. He tried not to hiss in pain, his skin still tender. “And he came with these ones, I didn’t have to do a damn thing. He does seem to like it, as luck would have it.”

Loki glared sharply at Thor while the Other Loki just laughed, delighted and bright. “Oh, of course he does. I suppose all Loki’s must like a good tying-down _once_ in a while. In fact, you’re making it look so appealing, I’m almost reconsidering my stance.” He tapped his fingers to his lips, contemplating Loki distantly as one would a painting or a sculpture, even as he addressed him. “The last time I chained myself up, I ended up burning for weeks and it’s never quite left me; surely, you understand my caution.”

He walked closer, tilting his head sideways in scrutiny. Perhaps cataloguing Loki’s injuries, as well as the pink branching marks that Thor had left upon his stomach. Thor was wisely quiet, allowing them to cautiously meet while standing by in case of violence, as one would when introducing two alley cats. Or perhaps two peacocks, Loki mused to himself.

He met his counterpart’s gaze, unabashed now that he’d gotten his bearings. For better or worse, he had been raised a prince of Asgard and would not be cowed, as any other Loki ought to recognize. The Other Loki came to crouch in front of him, his eyes a strange and poisonous green. Something passed between them— a mutual respect. The Other Loki had evidently decided he didn’t pose a threat where it mattered, but knew to be wary of him regardless. Good. He would extend the same courtesy.

“I have to say, he’s in horrible shape— that wasn’t all _your_ doing, Thor?” But the Other Loki didn’t look away from him, only reached up as if to touch the wound at his head. “He hasn’t been bothering you, has he?” He addressed Loki directly this time. Loki paused for a moment, then shook his head no, and the Other Loki let his hand fall away.

“I told you, he came like that,” Thor said, withdrawing his arm from around Loki in order to turn and look at him with half a smile. “Fell right on his face out of a portal onto the deck. Every bit as graceful as you.” 

Loki let out an aggravated breath at the betrayal of confidence, and the Other Loki gave him an equally long-suffering eye roll. Despite everything, Loki felt a little seed of kinship warm within him. He’d never met anyone remotely like himself, and now he suddenly wondered at this Other Loki. Who he was in this world. If he’d done any of the same terrible, desperate things…

“Well. I hope you didn’t waste _all_ your energy on showing him a good time.” The Other Loki looked over to Thor, brows cocked. “It wasn’t easy for me to get away, you know. Lots of things in motion that need my attention. Thori says hi, by the way. And also ‘murder.’”

Thor laughed, though Loki knew not why. “I still have plenty of ways to put you in motion,” he promised, and then he was leaning forward to scoop the Other Loki’s face into a kiss, leaning halfway over Loki’s shoulder. 

He quickly drew back to give them space, edging back toward the arm of the sofa, and watched in strange fascination as the Other Loki melted into Thor’s touch, those broad hands making him look almost dainty by juxtaposition. Loki felt his mouth go dry as the Other Loki clung to Thor’s forearms with unrestrained need— he made no attempt to hide his desire for his brother, nor to maintain any semblance of propriety in front of their visitor.

It was a strange and beautiful sight, although Loki couldn’t help the bitterness rising in his stomach— how hideously simple they made it seem. How straightforward. Did they assume he and his own Thor had the same ease of touch, the same rhythm between them?

He’d been mistaken then, to think they might be at all alike. Little in Loki’s life was ever simple, especially not when it came to Thor. His shining, golden brother had ever looked down upon him with pity and scorn, and probably hated him now, besides. Which was fine, really. 

The kissing couple came up for breath after a long moment, and Loki saw the tension in the Other Loki’s body had all but melted away. It was a strange thing to see, for he knew that to be Loki was to be constantly watching one’s back. But this Other Loki appeared oddly at ease in Thor’s arms— and he wondered if it might even be true. Maybe there was a catch hidden somewhere. There must be.

“I was starting to wonder if I’d ever see you again,” Thor said, somewhere between teasing and accusing, and the Other Loki smirked. 

“You’ve been spending far too much time on Midgard if you think three weeks is now a lifetime,” he scoffed, and then he turned his considering gaze back upon Loki. “And besides, you’ve had plenty of company.”

“He’s only just arrived,” Thor argued, then looked at Loki as well. “Though I did my best to entertain him. And I do believe he enjoyed himself.” He gave Loki a conspiring smile.

Loki held his back straighter— felt he ought to be more offended that he’d merely been a substitute, something to hold this Thor over until the true object of his desire was available. But the way Thor was looking at him, the warmth in his gaze— it was hard even for him to convince himself that this Thor had only wooed him out of boredom. 

He must be losing his mind amidst the sheer madness of this day.

The Other Loki was licking his lips, gaze half-lidded. “Well, friend. If I know anything about us, we have a fairly endless appetite when it comes to Thor.” He let his eyes wander over Loki’s body once more and Loki felt unnerved, as if he was been seen straight through— as if finally, someone looked at him and _understood_. He couldn’t say he liked it, but the Other Loki seemed to. He pulled back from Thor and came to perch on the couch between the two of them, brushing a stray lock of Loki’s unkempt hair back from his face, just as Thor had.

“What say you, other me?” the Other Loki asked, tilting his head. “Would you care to join us in a friendly tryst?”

Loki looked into his keen eyes, then back over to Thor, and shook his head slowly no.

 

He soon came to regret that decision, for they had simply exchanged a glance and shrugged, and then the Other Loki had smiled at him and said, “Alright. You can watch, then. Maybe you’ll get some ideas to bring back to your own time…” And the queer way he said it made Loki think that perhaps he had already guessed who had muzzled Loki. Knew he and his Thor were at odds, and more, besides.

But in the absence of anything else to do— his mind swimming in a daze of post-sex and post-battle and post-endless running, of reality-hopping and fucking Not His Thor and meeting Not Himself— Loki simply sat in an armchair that the Other Loki plunked him down into. And he watched.

Watched as the Other Loki let himself be hauled into Thor’s naked lap and shrugged out of his frock coat, then his gloves, all the while Thor was burying his face in his neck, hindering more than helping.

Watched as Thor kissed and caressed and bit at him, not so different from what he’d done to Loki, but there was an even greater familiarity in how he tugged off the Other Loki’s diadem and kissed the curve of his jaw beneath it, how he worried at the lobe of the Other Loki’s ear with his teeth while the Other Loki unbuckled his belts— something that could surely be done with his seidr, but Loki could appreciate the art of anticipation, the thrill that came from a manual undressing.

Watched as the Other Loki allowed Thor to peel him out of his tunic, arching up so Thor could suck a nipple into his mouth, gasping at the hot wet of Thor’s tongue— and the soft tease of his beard, no doubt. Loki now knew both of those feelings intimately, and he burned with the sense memory.

He breathed out slowly, rapt, as the Other Loki divested himself of the last of his garments. As Thor took both of them in hand and the Other Loki slid his hips as close as they could go, then leaned back with his hands braced behind him on Thor’s knees. As Thor put a hand at the small of his back and leaned in to kiss and lick at his chest as he stroked them together. Loki was privately gratified to see that the Other Loki’s cock was very much like his, and looked similarly small against Thor’s.

He shifted in his seat, feeling uncomfortably aroused. The discomfort came mostly from the knowledge that if they cared to look over, they would see the evidence, even with him trying to surreptitiously hold his cuffed hands in front of his groin— the warm metal of the chain kept teasing him, causing his cock to jerk as he watched and flexed his thighs in futility, a poor attempt to stave off his need. He could feel a little more of Thor’s spend trickle from him with each motion and sighed, trying to hold still.

The Other Loki pushed Thor down hard on the worn sofa and set upon him with his mouth, licking and teasing, sucking on Thor’s heavy balls, making him groan deep in his chest. Loki was on fire, his mouth watering; so badly wanting to touch, to taste what the Other Loki could taste. Wanting desperately to lick up the pre come that beaded at the head of Thor’s gloriously thick cock, but suffering merely to watch the Other Loki do so in his stead. And yet he could not be envious, surely— he had already taken more than his fill, had he not? The ache in his ass would suggest so.

The Other Loki’s words drifted back to him— perhaps his appetite for Thor was indeed endless. It certainly felt it, in this moment. 

Loki shifted in his seat, his cock stiff and dripping, and wondered if they would notice if he were to touch himself. If the clink of the chains would give him away. As he watched the Other Loki swallow Thor down nearly to the base with only a bit of a choke— Thor’s golden hand holding his hair back as he shut his eyes and groaned his approval— Loki tried to give himself a surreptitious stroke.

The Other Loki’s eyes opened slowly, like a cat’s, and looked right at him. Loki paused his movement, staring back with all the resolve he could muster. His counterpart watched for a moment, then let his eyes slip shut again as he focused once more on the thick cock invading his throat. Loki let out a slow breath. He stroked himself with less hesitance, enjoying the slick obscene sounds and the little grunts and breaths and moans they were making, and when Thor finally noticed him, he didn’t freeze up but merely continued to touch himself, slow and teasing.

Thor grinned at him, face flushed and eyes bright. Gods, even with the strangely shorn hair and the different face— he looked _beautiful_. How Loki desperately wished he could see that look upon his own— no, better not to spoil it, not to think of that now. But try as he might, he couldn’t push the thoughts from his head. How he would utterly wreck his own Thor with pleasure, how he would see him come undone despite himself. How Thor might even grow to like it.

“Alright, get over here already,” Thor commanded in play, beckoning to Loki with his head— his hands were busy in the Other Loki’s hair. “There’s no point in you sitting out.”

The Other Loki hummed his approval, then popped off Thor’s cock with a wet slurp, a string of saliva beading between his lips and Thor’s cock-head. “Agreed,” he said, with the beginning of a rasp to his voice. “Perhaps he can sit on your foolish face, brother.”

Loki tried to mask his dismay but evidently wasn't successful, for Thor laughed at him. “He’s only joking; you may join us however you wish.” But the desire on his face was plain, and it made Loki hunger for him all the more.

“I’m highly recommending it,” the Other Loki said. “Trust me. Sit on his face—you won’t be disappointed. And no, he didn’t pay me to say that.”

 

Somehow, Loki found himself perched above his not-brother’s mouth with Thor laid on his back, those broad hands spreading him as Thor plundered his ass with tongue and lips and teeth, licking his own spend from inside him. The Other Loki was crouched between Thor’s thighs, still sucking his massive cock with abandon. Loki stared at him. Overcome with pleasure as he was, he found himself completely mesmerized as the Other Loki licked and suckled at the head, pink tongue leaving everything wet and shining. As he played with Thor’s foreskin and rippled his fingers along Thor’s girth in a way that made Thor hum and groan. 

The Other Loki lapped up the beads of Thor’s pre come, then milked more from him, letting it drip down the shaft before swallowing him down. Loki was transfixed, seeing Thor’s cock bulge in that pale throat, and he shuddered as Thor spread him further, slipping a thumb in him for a moment. Even though Thor had already fucked and fingered him silly, it still felt so dizzyingly good, and his tongue… 

Norns, what was he _doing_ here. 

The Other Loki looked up just then, as if to ensure Loki was still having an enjoyable time. He needn’t have worried— Loki was certain even after his previous exertions that he could eventually climax again from this alone.

“I told you,” the Other Loki said, the next time Loki whined. He tapped Thor’s wet cock against his tongue, then his cheek. “He’s the best at eating ass for a reason; you’re doing him a favor, really.” His grin turned conspiratorial. “And let’s be honest for once, just Loki to Loki—yours looks quite delicious. I’m perhaps a little jealous of him.”

Loki felt himself flush hot, shutting his eyes hard as he moaned beneath the gag, finally giving into the urge to grind down against Thor’s eager tongue. He didn’t know if he could handle the thought of his own counterpart so casually telling him such— such _filth_. He ought to be repulsed by such a thing, and yet his cock was throbbing and twitching, desperate for some kind of friction, aching for to be touched. He opened his eyes and the Other Loki was still looking at him. Clearly, very little escaped his notice.

“Would you like me to take care of that,” he all but purred, crawling forward until he was straddling Thor’s waist. Loki lowered his chin in suspicion, brows furrowed, and the Other Loki snorted. “Oh, _please_. Don’t tell me you’ve never considered it— sucking your own cock. No? Just me then?” 

The Other Loki licked his teeth and Loki found himself following the path of his pink tongue, feeling strangely warm in the face. Beneath him, Thor sucked on his rim, a gentle scrape of teeth, and he was overcome for a moment, caught between the two of them.

“No need to fret, just say yes,” the Other Loki said, voice cajoling as he ran his varnished fingertips down Loki’s chest, pressing ever so lightly at his bruised sternum. Loki took a shuddering inhale, though not at the pain. The Other Loki’s skin was wonderfully cool to the touch. “It’s nice to have a little pleasure with your pain, isn’t it? Or perhaps you’d prefer to deny yourself, that’s always good for a laugh…”

Loki studied his face, distracted as he was by Thor’s eager ministrations, and the Other Loki studied his right back. How very different they were, and yet, he realized—truly, how uncomfortably the same. He hated it. The Other Loki smiled after a moment, then leaned in to press a kiss over the muzzle, his breath cool against Loki’s cheek. “Whatever you did,” he murmured, “I promise you, boy, I’ve done ten times worse.” Loki’s eyes fluttered shut. He very much doubted that was the case. 

“You seem like a nice kid,” the Other Loki continued. “Maybe you deserve to feel good, just this once.” And then he was caressing Loki’s bruised chest with those clever fingers and Loki shivered and embarrassingly, whimpered— only in part because Thor had just thrust his tongue deep inside him.

“Ooh, he _likes_ that, Thor,” the Other Loki said, encouragingly, and Loki was caught between wanting to curse him and praise him as Thor repeated the precise motion of his tongue and, ohhh, gods yes, that _was_ good. The Other Loki ducked his dark, glossy head, leaned in to suck at Loki’s already abused nipples, and Loki groaned low in his throat at the feel of both of their mouths upon him.

This was very much not how he had expected today to go. He was meant to have conquered an entire realm and here he was, being used by his and Thor’s doppelgängers like a Alfheim party favor. Still, he had ever been adaptable. And well… perhaps he _had_ wondered in his younger years what it would be like to suck his own cock…

It was only a manner of minutes before Loki got so desperate as to finally nod in encouragement when the Other Loki, having decided his nipples had seen enough torture, put a hand on his thigh and gave him a questioning glance. 

Loki was very quickly reduced to pitiful, shaky breaths and strangled moans as he was caught between pressing down against Thor’s untiring mouth and rocking his hips into the Other Loki’s warm, wet suction. His mouth wasn’t nearly the furnace that Thor’s was— perhaps for the best, or Loki might have come immediately— and he had just barely the presence of mind to wonder if this Loki was like him beneath the skin as well. Thankfully, the Other Loki’s tongue was deft and talented enough to loose such thoughts from his mind and set them adrift. 

Soon, all he could feel was the warm pressure and slick of Thor’s tongue inside him and the Other Loki’s teasing mouth and fingers on his cock. It was so much, nearly burning his senses after so long a drought, and though he’d already come thrice, Loki felt he could come three times yet and still desire more.

The Other Loki seemed to sense he was overwhelmed and pulled off of him, sitting up to read his face. 

“You’re getting there, but you need a little more of a push,” he said, matter of factly, stroking Loki with one hand. “The question is… which of us would you have?” He paused. “Or would you prefer to _be_ had.”

Loki couldn’t help a groan at that. The thought of being fucked by either of them was destroying the last vestiges of his pride, his final attempts to cling to self-control— a control that had just barely been within grasp as it was. He truly was a vile creature.

“Ah, I think he said ‘both’,” the Other Loki said to Thor, though the tease was clearly directed at Loki. And there was a look in his eye that suggested it wasn’t a tease at all. “Sounded like ‘both’ to me.”

“Oh, did he now?” Thor gasped, pushing Loki’s ass up from his face just enough for him to breathe. It was only then, feeling his great chest suddenly heaving beneath his knees, that Loki realized Thor had been holding his breath for some time. The thought made his cock swell even thicker in the Other Loki’s grasp.

“Tell me, brother,” the Other Loki said to him, wearing a dangerous grin. He plucked at one of Loki’s sore nipples, then its twin, making him hiss. “How do you feel about taking the two of us at once.”

Loki recoiled with a frown, an stinging pain blooming where the Other Loki was still pinching his tit, which only made his cock jerk in approval. The Other Loki shook his head, and he was laughing again, the bastard. “Oh no, it’s not quite what you’re thinking; Thor is far too large to share any manner of orifice with. I value my cock remaining whole and uncrushed, thank you. But there are other ways.”

Loki was uncertain, but then the other leaned in closer and kissed him on the neck, open-mouthed and dirty. He leaned into the touch even as he rocked down against Thor’s mouth, feeling so unbearably soft and wet and _open_ with that eager tongue inside him, and then the Other Loki was stroking around the base of his cock, whispering against his muzzled mouth. “Why should you be afraid? Don’t you understand yet, how very little there is we cannot do? We were meant to be kings, and that’s only the start of it.” He pressed a kiss to Loki’s cheek, above the muzzle. “Try living a little.”

Loki inhaled, long and slow, then pulled back just far enough to meet the Other Loki’s eyes. Made his decision and nodded his assent.

A greenish glow illuminated his counterpart, casting him with a devilish look, and then Loki froze as a strange, effervescent tingle enveloped his lower body. He wasn’t used to being transformed by the power of another; it was as unnerving as it was strangely arousing.

Even more disconcerting was looking down and seeing that his cock was a cock no longer, but a soft mound with a small thatch of curls that the Other Loki moved to cup in his hand, the heel pressing against his pubic bone. Pleasure flooded Loki’s veins at such a simple thing. He tensed, so unbelievably aroused by Thor licking into him from below while this other Loki contained him in his palm. He could feel those fingertips resting against where he was already wet, so very wet, but they didn’t move against him and Loki almost whined with impatience.

He had not done this to himself in a very long time. Only Thor had ever seen the evidence he could change his sex, and only owing to a rather embarrassing incident in their youth. It’d only taken the one time being caught with his ass in the air—feverishly working a glass phallus into his virgin cunt, no less—before he’d learned to better ward his quarters. They’d never spoken of it. Or rather, Loki hadn’t allowed Thor to speak of it.

“The way I see it—” the Other Loki was murmuring into his neck, drawing him back to the present, “—a little surrender can be good for the soul. You thought orgasms were good _before_.” And then he finally teased his fingertips through the slick between Loki’s thighs. Loki all but collapsed against him. His nerves were on _fire_. It should be terrible for how depraved it was, but he craved the Other Loki’s touch with a strange, sudden desperation and cared no longer for propriety.

“Oh,” the Other Loki said, and the shift in his voice was palpable. “Oh, other me… you feel _glorious_.”

Thor moaned beneath them, and Loki could see his hips rocking upward behind the Other Loki, jostling them where they sat astride. He realized Thor could probably feel the fresh wetness seeping down onto his chin— or perhaps smell him. 

By the Nine, this would surely be the death of him.

“C’mere,” the Other Loki said, abruptly pulling him up and off of Thor. “I just want to feel you for a moment. Come straddle me, lovely.”

Thor managed to extricate himself from the tangle on the sofa and rose to his full height before them. Loki’s mouth watered to see how wet his beard had become. How pink, his face. How hard and leaking, his cock. Thor licked his lips and put his hands on his hips as he stood and watched, stroking himself slowly in evident approval as Loki allowed himself to be drawn up onto Other Loki’s lap. 

“Put your arms around my neck,” the Other Loki urged, and Loki looped the chain behind his head, moaning deep in his throat at the first feel of his soft, slick flesh gliding over the Other Loki’s cock. It was only a matter of moments before Loki found himself slavishly rutting against him, seeking more of that spine-tingling friction. Some small voice still tried to insist this was madness, but Loki harshly smothered it. He wanted only to feel. In some strange way, he felt as if a great burden had been lifted from him, and all he could do was accept its loss. Or perhaps, fill himself with something else in its stead. He truly was a wretch; may as well accept it.

The Other Loki clutched at his ass, spreading him, and rocked up against his clit, a glazed look in his eyes. “Mmm.” He licked his lips, moving his hands to Loki’s hips and guiding his movements, grinding them together. “Freeing, isn’t it? It’s good to be bad, sometimes.” 

Loki was too busy swiveling his hips in tight circles to answer, but he groaned in frustration after another moment— his pleasure had plateaued, it still wasn’t _enough_. 

Thor seemed to read his mind, moving in behind him and sliding his fingers through his wet folds, teasing his slit. Between that and the renewed heat of that massive presence at his back, reminding him of their earlier coupling, Loki was all but shaking. It had been so long, so very long, and to receive this all at once; he could barely keep himself composed. And when Thor slipped one of his fingers inside Loki’s cunt, stretching him almost to the point of pain, he lost himself completely, rutting down hard.

Thor groaned, his other hand slipping around Loki’s front to clutch at his chest, his lips seeking Loki’s neck. The Other Loki’s eyes were a happy squint as he grinned up at the two of them, stroking Loki’s thighs. “This was such a good idea,” he beamed, all filthy delight. “You two really look divine together. This would make for a great Christmas card.” 

Loki wasn’t exactly sure what he meant, but he could feel Thor’s grin against his skin and he felt strangely at peace in that moment, held between the two of them. Feeling some odd warmth rising in him at their touch, at their presence… almost as though he belonged here, suspended betwixt his strange new brothers. It was a lie he could almost swallow; just for a night.

And then Thor began to fuck his fingers into him in earnest, setting the pace, and Loki’s back arched as he gave a shamefully loud cry, rutting forward against Loki’s cock. The sensation coupled with the slick, indecent sounds of Thor moving within him were setting him alight like a midsummer’s pyre, the fire growing in his centre and spreading outward.

“Oh yes, _now_ we’re getting somewhere,” the Other Loki licked his lips, caressing his own chest with one hand, slipping the other down to squeeze at Loki’s clit. “Look at you, how gorgeous you are. And I’m not just saying that because we’re related.” 

Loki laughed despite himself, the sound muffled by the muzzle, then sighed as the Other Loki’s fingers manipulated him skillfully, as he used his cock as a toy for Loki to grind against. Thor had eased off a little after his initial frenzy, stroking inside him rather than fucking, and Loki writhed in sweet torment.

“Can you blame me for neglecting to wait for you, brother?” Thor asked, and the Other Loki just smiled.

“Oh, I’ll have my revenge later, never you fret. But am I upset you warmed him up? Not at all…” He turned his attentions to Loki, appraising him. “And you want more already, don’t you? You want to be _filled_.”

Loki didn’t reply. He knew what he wanted, yes, but there was still part of him that hesitated to just reach out and grasp it. 

“C’mon,” the Other Loki said, seeing his internal debate. He pulled Loki’s hips closer, smooth voice gone deliciously rough with arousal. “Take what’s yours. My cock is your cock, really.”

Thor withdrew his fingers and Loki didn’t need to be told again. He lifted himself until he could feel the tip of the Other Loki’s prick nudging up against his cunt, plying entry. Loki slowly sank down on him, savoring every new wave of sensation as he felt himself being opened deeper and deeper still. Even with Thor’s ministrations he felt so tight, almost _too_ tight, and had to stop a moment, breathing hard through his nose, but the Other Loki let him take his time. Soothed him with a gentle rub to his thigh, while Thor rested his broad hands on Loki’s waist, as though to catch him if he should swoon.

Loki steeled himself, determined not to be bested by his own body. He sank down the rest of the way in one hard push, wrenching noises from both of them— the Other Loki’s hands shooting up to catch his waist, landing partly atop Thor’s.

Loki let his head fall forward, a long whine escaping him as he felt himself spasm around the sudden intrusion. The Other Loki grunted and his cock flexed, setting off yet another wave of spasms. Loki groaned and rocked his hips insistently, feeding off his counterpart’s arousal. He already needed more. 

“Pushy little thing, aren’t you,” the Other Loki sighed in approval, and gave him an experimental thrust, and then another. In no time at all, he was fucking into Loki with abandon, staring down at where they joined, biting his plump lower lip. His lashes cast thick shadows across his cheeks. Loki felt his own eyes must be as wide as saucers. Beneath the muzzle, his mouth watered at the indescribable sensations coursing through him, rippling out in heavy waves from their epicenter. Norns, the feel of being taken like this was _exquisite_. 

“How does he feel, brother,” Thor asked, bringing his hand up to fondle one of Loki’s swollen nipples, making him sigh.

“He’s perfect,” the Other Loki panted, glancing over his shoulder at Thor. He stuttered in his rhythm for the briefest second, and Loki wondered what look he’d seen on Thor’s face. “Norns— I make a damned fine cunt, if I do say so myself,” he laughed, breathlessly, thrusting up into the slippery mess between them. “I’m not even sure I _want_ to share.” 

“Oh, you don’t think so?” Thor let his hand roam down Loki’s front until he’d gotten two of his fingers wedged between them, trapping Loki’s clit. “You shouldn’t be selfish, I think he’s very shareable.”

Loki nearly choked on his own saliva. 

Thor moved his fingers to squeeze the soft flesh of Loki’s cunt tighter around the Other Loki’s cock, coaxing a moan from both of them. Gods, he felt like he was floating. “What do you think, brother?” Thor asked. “Are you satisfied yet?”

 _Not nearly_ , Loki thought. A sudden hiss distracted him, and he realized that he’d been digging his nails into The Other Loki’s shoulders, the chain of his shackles pulled tight around the back of his hair and neck. He eased off, only until he saw the blown-dark look in the Other Loki’s eyes. 

“Oh, come now, we’re not so different,” he said, voice lazy with pleasure, even as his hips pumped tirelessly between Loki’s legs, and he all but purred when Loki dared to dig in again. 

Thor groaned, biting down on Loki’s neck for a moment, holding him in place— which forced him to take the Other Loki’s cock all the harder. It felt so strange, acknowledging his secret, twisted hedonistic nature after leaving it buried for so long. Everything he’d dabbled with in his youth paled in comparison to this veritable banquet of sins. Indeed, how could he possibly be satisfied when they’d only just begun?

“Pull his hair,” the Other Loki whispered, and Loki clenched his jaw as Thor obeyed, gripping a thick handful close to his skull and exposing his neck, forcing him to arch his back— and then he felt Thor’s cock pressing hard and thick between his buttocks. Oh gods, he wanted that back inside him too— even as unbearably full as he was, he would have more— needed more.

“I thought you might like that,” the Other Loki sounded almost smug, but in his current position, Loki couldn’t be bothered to care. He could hear Thor messing one-handed with the bottle of oil, slicking his cock, and felt anticipation thrumming through his veins as he stared at the ceiling, feeling that tight, unceasing grip at the back of his head. His blood felt effervescent with desire.

“Oh gods, can you feel that?,” the Other Loki groaned. “It’s absolutely indecent how wet you just got, oh _fucking_ Hel. Thor, you’d better get on with it.” He thrust up into Loki with enthusiasm, and though Loki couldn’t see him, the grin in his voice was plain. “I’m so very pleased with how this is working out. Normally, I only manage to fuck myself in the metaphorical sense. This is far more agreeable.”

Loki gave a breathless laugh despite himself, and the Other Loki snickered in turn. And then he was laying back, pulling Loki with him; Thor relinquishing his grip on his hair. The Other Loki coaxed him forward until they were reclining flush against each other with Loki’s knees braced around the other’s waist, his shackled arms still looped around the back of the Other Loki’s neck. 

It felt _good_ to lay against him, Loki realized with no small amount of surprise. He was not nearly so large as Thor, and his was not the presence Loki truly craved— after all, they were perhaps little more than shades of each other— but something about him was strangely compelling. Loki ground down, wanting his cock sheathed completely within him. Gods, he wasn’t used to this deep throbbing, this desperate heated sensation. The tension felt so different, and so unbearably good. And when he tightened around him, ohh… he rather liked the noise it won him.

And then Thor was kneeling at Loki’s rear, one mighty knee pressed flush against the backrest of the couch, his other foot on the floor. Loki felt Thor’s cock nudging against his well-abused hole and inhaled, sharp. Thor rumbled behind him.

“I will not think you a coward for changing your mind,” his voice came low in Loki’s ear. “But you must tell me now if you wish me to stop.”

The Other Loki watched, intent, to see his response. Perhaps Thor wouldn’t think him a coward, however… 

Loki nodded slowly, meeting his gaze.

“Take him,” the Other Loki said, an approving glint in his eye. And then Thor was hot upon him, spreading him further with those massive hands. Loki stared his other self down— perhaps in challenge, perhaps not— and found himself digging his nails into the other’s shoulders, paying forward the delicious pain as Thor pushed his thick cock inside him for the second time that day.

The three of them hissed and groaned and cursed in tandem. All motion ceased as they simply breathed together, reveling in the overwhelming sensation. Loki gasped desperately for air, his eyes pricking with tears, his head spinning at the sheer intensity of the stretch and the heat as he was pulled to pieces. It was so good, and so much, and so terrible at once. He cried out as Thor sank all the way in and held there; the unimaginable pressure of their twin cocks filling him so thickly, beyond anything he had ever dreamt possible. He could feel their blood pulsing, roaring within his body, a chaotic tangle of heartbeats; suddenly felt himself little more than a glorious cacophony of heat and flesh and desire, and he knew then that he would be utterly ruined and forever damned by this. He couldn’t imagine going on, but to stop now was unthinkable.

Thor moved first— resting his lips at the back of Loki’s head, slipping a hand between them to squeeze Loki to him. The Other Loki nuzzled into Loki’s neck, breathing heavily as he caressed Loki’s bound jaw. 

“Thor,” he whimpered into Loki’s hair, and Thor’s golden arm moved to cradle the Other Loki’s neck, and then the two of them were kissing over Loki’s shoulder. The Other Loki didn’t stop touching Loki’s face, and Thor’s flesh arm was braced alongside Loki’s hip, burning hot as a brand, and even though he could not kiss, could not speak, Loki felt as if he was drowning in them. As if whatever they shared— their desire, their love, their unspoken history—was being passed through him, a complete circuit, their flesh inside and around him, and he again thought for a moment that perhaps _this_ was what it felt like, to belong. 

He knew he would regret it later; getting to taste something he had always yearned for but would never have. But punishing himself was an art he’d perfected long ago, and he intended to suffer keenly the loss when they parted. To rage and yearn in futility, and hold this secret within him forevermore— the glimpse of what he and Thor could have been, if only he had been deserving. 

His brothers broke the kiss, and then he felt the attention shift back to him. Suddenly, _he_ was being kissed and caressed everywhere they could reach; the shell of his ear, the apple of his throat, the side of his brow. As if to make up for him being otherwise left out. Loki fought to keep his breathing steady. Fought to blink back the tears that would not stop pricking his eyes.

“Shall we do this?” Thor said finally, in a voice so beautifully wrecked that it made something in Loki’s stomach tremble, his breath hitching. 

“Age before beauty,” the Other Loki quipped, equally breathless, and then Thor was laughing.

“Aye,” he replied. “And pearls before swine.” He began a slow rhythm that the Other Loki countered, so that while one of them thrust into Loki, the other was sliding out. It was excruciatingly, heart-stoppingly good. Loki’s lower back and hips were immediately wracked with spasms, his body helplessly jerking between them as they left him full and empty in equal measure— and always that brief moment of gloriously aching pressure between.

He let himself collapse more fully atop the Other Loki, for it was all he could do to lay there and take the two of them at once, felt himself sweating and trembling and moaning, breathing hard through his nose, clenching his jaw and his hands. He felt so spread open, so wanton and greedy and filthy, but it was so good that the only disgust he felt was with himself for _not_ feeling more disgusted. The heat of their bodies, the grunts Thor made as he plied Loki’s ass with his thick girth, the encouraging gasps and little murmurs coming from the Other Loki beneath him. It was so much, he could barely think at all, could only keen low in his throat as he was taken twice over.

He never wanted this to end. And soon, to both his horror and delight, Loki found he had no concept of how much time had passed— which was unusual for him, as even in the thick of battle he’d ever remained keenly aware of his surrounds. Found himself unable to do anything but surrender to it, letting himself simply lay there and writhe and whimper under their touches, trapped between them with no urge or hope of escape. Thor was pressing a kiss to Loki’s shoulder where he’d released his lightning upon him, and Loki nearly swooned at the delicious edge the pain gave to his pleasure.

“Close already, brother?” The Other Loki murmured, his hands clutching at Loki’s upper arms as he swiveled his hips just a little below him. He was stronger than he looked, still able to thrust up into Loki’s cunt even with Thor pressing down from above.

“Aye,” Thor panted, followed by a groan from deep within his chest, and the wrecked sound in his voice nearly put Loki into a swoon. “You’re both testing my patience.”

“So greedy, brother, filling him twice in one day,” The Other Loki sighed, and Loki thought perhaps he might be getting closer as well. “You’re a monster.”

“Aye,” Thor said again, his breath ragged and hot. “And you’re not helping.”

“I think I’m very much helping,” The Other Loki said, not ceasing the steady roll of his hips. “I gave him a pretty little cunt for you to fuck when you’re done back there.”

Thor and Loki groaned in unison and then he could feel Thor speeding up, his rhythm losing its sync with the Other Loki’s, the hot, thick drag of him so fiendishly good that Loki nearly broke into a sob. “Thor,” the Other Loki moaned, clearly enjoying the feel. “Oh fuck, Thor.”

Thor growled and began to thrust deeper, letting his hips knock hard against Loki’s ass with every stroke, and soon they were a panting, gasping, groaning mess of limbs and clutching hands and Loki all but screamed as Thor give his mightiest thrusts yet and then came with a long, agonized groan straight into the flesh of Loki’s shoulder where he’d bitten down at the last minute.

Loki’s voice broke as he felt Thor’s cock pump the last of his spend within him, again with such astonishing heat that he felt almost faint, but the Loki beneath him wasn’t done, and now that Thor had fallen still and was merely filling him, holding him stretched and open, he could focus on the feeling of the Other Loki’s cock.

“Gods, Thor,” he was panting, and then Thor was bracing himself with one hand on the couch above the Other Loki’s head, and reaching out to cup his face. Loki watched, rapt, as Thor pressed his golden thumb to the Other Loki’s lips and was given eager entry, though he didn’t seem to want it to be sucked right away— instead used his leverage to pull the Other Loki’s jaw down and run his thumb over his plump lips and his pink tongue, and the Other Loki’s eyes slid shut for a moment as he made a weak sigh. Perhaps for his own selfish purposes, or perhaps to show him off; it so powerfully reminded Loki of that mouth on his cock that he felt his arousal surging even more than he thought possible, and then the Other Loki’s eyes were opening, glazed in pleasure, before he slipped his own hand down between them.

Loki cried out and ground down on him as much as he could, wanting more of that teasing pressure against his clit. The Other Loki bucked up harder against him, driving his cock deeper as Thor fucked his mouth with his slick-shining thumb, and the whole scene was so brutally erotic that Loki felt himself clench upon them, he was so close, he wanted to come so badly it hurt, he needed it, please.

He hadn’t realized he was whining until the Other Loki’s face lit with determination and he wiggled beneath him to shift the angle, just so, and then he was fucking right into Loki’s most sensitive spot and Loki’s back arched against Thor’s hot chest, breath strangled and caught in his throat, and then Thor’s hand was on his neck, his tongue still wet with The Other Loki’s spit.

“He wants to come,” Thor rumbled. “Will you let him?”

“Almost… there…” The Other Loki panted, and then he pushed his fingers into Thor’s mouth for a moment before bringing them back down to Loki’s swollen, aching clit and that was all it took to push Loki over the edge with a throat-rending cry.

He spasmed and writhed at the massive climax that seized him, unable to stop his wailing, the glorious pressure and fullness of coming on two cocks, hard and unyielding, the Other Loki not ceasing his thrusts— thick within his clenching cunt, forcing him open, forcing him to ride it out, completely undone between them as he cried out again and again until it was one unceasing plea for mercy. The sharp, sweet pleasure from his clit setting his nerves ablaze even as it continued to roll over him, this terrible ecstatic wave, felt himself shaking and quivering within and without at the unending hot gush of liquid pleasure, overwhelming all his senses, reducing him to his basest self, making him small, sending him beyond himself into a hazy abyss.

He would have collapsed if not for the thick hand at his throat and Loki’s smaller, cool hand at his hip, and then the Other Loki was gritting his teeth and shouting as he spent inside of Loki, hips bucking up erratically and only prolonging Loki’s own agony. Thor groaned behind him, his hand tightening on Loki’s throat, and Loki kept his eyes tightly shut as he felt a final wave pass through him.

“Fuck,” the Other Loki was panting, coming down from his own high. “Fuck, fuck, _fuck_ me…”

Thor finally released Loki’s throat and he sagged, boneless, against the Other Loki, who did his best to embrace him with arms that seemed to have lost their coordination. Loki just laid there atop him, their chests heaving together like frightened rabbits, the Other Loki groaning soft and low and Thor petting his hair. 

 

Some minutes later, they managed to stir and extricate themselves, finding their strength once more, and Loki sighed deeply with the loss as they took turns sliding out from inside him, feeling their mess drip from him as they went. 

“Good thinking with the blanket,” The Other Loki quipped as Thor pulled Loki off him and allowed him to slip free. “That was… untidy.”

“Could have been worse,” Thor reasoned, cradling Loki back against his chest after he’d settled him between his legs. Despite his reservations about being cuddled, of all things, Loki went along with him, feeling unusually pliant and too tired to make a fuss. “You always seem to find a way.”

“Still might,” the Other Loki teased, vanishing the wet spots from the blanket with a small gesture, though Loki knew it wouldn’t be long before he’d left new ones. “Now,” he said, adopting a brisk tone, gesturing toward’s Loki’s groin with a small smile. “I’ll be having that back, if you don’t mind.”

Loki realized then that he’d almost entirely forgotten he was still wearing the form the other had given him. He nodded his assent, inhaling sharply as the strange feel took hold once more and he was reverted to his original state. A bit of a shame, really; he’d been enjoying that lingering feeling in both his orifices, that achy, sore, but pleasant warmth that was altogether different than his usual post-sex malaise. But having his own body back was worth the small loss, and at any rate, he’d surely be feeling Thor’s presence for days yet.

As if aware of Loki’s thoughts, Thor chose that moment to nuzzle down next to his face. “Well, well, brother.” he said, nodding at Loki’s cock. “Nice work. Even looks to be the same one, I’m impressed.”

Loki snorted, rolling his eyes and shooting the Other Loki a long-suffering look. But the Other Loki was clearly preoccupied, his eyes on the lower half of Loki’s face.

“Tell me more about that muzzle…”

Loki didn’t know why, but a sudden shiver ran through him. 

“It has an inscription,” Thor offered, helpfully, as Loki wasn’t exactly in a position to respond. “But I didn’t read too closely. I assumed it was more your area.”

“Mm. Yes, I rather dread to think of what might happen if you took it upon yourself to dabble in the arcane arts of magical bondage,” the Other Loki agreed solemnly, a small grin pulling at his lips. He settled back down on the sofa and turned to Loki. “I suppose it’s time to figure out how to take it off you, then.” He cocked his head in consideration as he now considered not the muzzle, but Loki’s face. “Is that wise?” 

Loki inhaled, slowly, and felt a rising tension in the air when he didn’t immediately answer. 

It was strange, how suddenly unnerved he was at the idea of actually having to speak. He hadn’t realized until that very moment how oddly reassuring it had been to simply have the option removed from him. With all else stripped bare, the muzzle had become his last piece of security, and he feared that being forced to speak might somehow ruin everything. Would make this strange dream all too real, or else prove that their acceptance of him was based upon his silence— his passivity.

He nodded his assent.

The Other Loki eyed him, considering, then edged forward, tipping Loki’s head back until he could read whatever inscription decorated the metal. Loki sat patiently, waiting for him to come to the correct conclusion.

“Ah,” he said, after a brief moment. “Actually, this _is_ a job for you, Thor.” 

“Me?” Thor questioned, thrown. “Why do you say so?”

“Isn’t it obvious,” the Other Loki said, struggling to keep a straight face

“Not to me,” Thor adjusted himself behind Loki, trying to lean to the side so he could have a better view. “Explain, brother.”

“He who wields this hammer commands the lightning and the storm?” The Other Loki said, pointedly. “I’m not gonna lie, it’s kinda sexy in a hilariously ham-fisted sort of way. He could have at least come up with a custom inscription.”

“ _Loki_.”

“Honestly, he might as well have written ‘Property of Thor, if found, return to Asgard’ on his damn forehead with Sharpie. What a loon.” The Other Loki was clearly enjoying this, and Loki could admit to himself that it was nice to have an ally for once.

Thor groaned and squeezed Loki’s waist. 

“This brother of yours... I must say, I find him embarrassing.”

Make that _allies_ , Loki noted. He could perhaps get used to this.

The Other Loki snickered as Thor coaxed Loki upward and rose, then sat Loki back on the sofa so he could kneel before him. It’d been some time since they’d been face to face and Loki was taken aback once more at his strange, hard-edged beauty. He didn’t have any of the softness of youth that still clung to Loki’s brother, and his arrogance had clearly matured into something far more appealing— the confidence of experience. It made Loki wonder…

Thor cradled both sides of Loki’s jaw in his large hands and looked into his eyes. That same brilliant blue that he loved— and sometimes hated in equal measure.

“By the power of Thor, I command you to release,” Thor said.

Loki held his breath. Nothing happened.

“Release the prisoner Loki Laufeyson from bondage,” Thor tried, and Loki’s eyes widened at the choice of patronym, feeling a shiver of revulsion.

Still, the muzzle did not react.

The Other Loki edged in next to Thor, considering Loki keenly.

“Try ‘Odinson,’” he said. 

Thor took a breath. “By the power of Thor, Son of Odin, I command you to release Loki Odinson from bondage.”

The muzzle heated suddenly and Loki gasped as the bond broke and it fell from his face into his lap, inert. The other two drew back a little, either in surprise or to give him space. Loki took a deep, slow inhale through his mouth and worked his jaw, feeling both relieved and very exposed. His tongue was ever his best weapon and here he sat, suddenly fearful of its power. Well, no more.

“Your brother really put this on you?” Thor asked, clearly not wanting to believe the Other Loki’s conclusion. Loki licked his lips, his throat dry.

“Of course not,” he said, voice sounding harsh to his own ears. “I have no brother.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are loved and adored. I'm also on [Twitter!](https://twitter.com/seidrade)


	3. To Break

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Whatever happens… he’s not going to abandon you,” the Other Loki said, voice warm and certain. Loki looked at him hard. 
> 
> “You can’t know that,” he said, though he was certain he’d meant to say something else.
> 
> “Oh? Can’t I?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Heads up for some seriously heavy feels: blame Loki "I have no brother" Odinson. 
> 
> Also mind the 'mild dubcon elements' tag. As always, all mistakes are mine.

There was a brief pause as the other two exchanged a glance, then looked back at him.

“Oh,” said the Other Loki, eyeing him with a subtle, knowing look that wasn’t quite a smile. “It’s like that, is it?”

Loki bristled at being patronized. “It’s not _like_ anything. It’s the truth.”

“Would he agree?” Thor asked, and there was something strangely neutral in his voice. Hurt, was he? Loki narrowed his eyes in contempt. The great fool, it had nothing to do with him. He’d been the one slandering his counterpart just moments ago. Back when it was all in good fun, evidently— before Loki himself dared to speak his piece. 

Frustration flared hot in him. Still, he found it hard to meet Thor’s eyes. Forced himself anyway.

“It matters not,” he said, staring into Thor, straightening his back further. As if he hadn’t just been begging for his cock. As if he wasn’t still seeping with his come. “At any rate, I thank you for releasing me. And for the… hospitality.” He willed himself not to flush and was just about to ask for one final favor— the removal of his cuffs— when Thor arose in all his naked glory. 

“Yes, and in that, I have been remiss. You must be thirsty, I would imagine?” His smile wasn’t unkind and Loki held his gaze, trying to tease out his intent.

“Very,” Loki said, though he hadn’t realized it was true until now. Thor nodded, then looked to the Other Loki, who had been watching their exchange with keen interest.

“I’ll be right back,” he said, one last unreadable glance before he quit the room in search of refreshment. Leaving Loki and his counterpart to regard each other— cooly on Loki’s part, fairly amused on the other’s. 

“Hm... You know, you’re pretty cute without that thing on,” the Other Loki said, teasing. Loki bristled at the infantilization and was about to deliver some manner of scathing reply but hesitated when he remembered how the other had touched him, had moved inside him with sweet praise. By the time he gathered his wits, the window to react had passed. 

The Other Loki seemed to sense his conflict and rose, sitting beside him on the couch and slinging an arm across the backrest. His reclined position would have forced Loki to lay back or turn into him, if Loki were in the mood to entertain such obvious manipulations. Instead, he remained seated upright, facing forward and seeing nothing at all as his mind swam, trying to make sense of his predicament. 

What had he been thinking, allowing such things. Giving in so readily. They would never take him seriously now. He’d been a fool; but then, it didn’t matter. He’d be gone soon. Very soon. Perhaps after a drink of water and a moment longer of rest. He itched to have the cuffs off his hands and to be able to clothe himself, but somehow, it felt like backing away from a challenge he didn’t remember signing up for.

“Now, tell me,” the Other Loki said, interrupting his thoughts. “Because I’m curious and you’re remarkably unforthcoming. What _did_ you do to piss him off? I’m hoping those bruises weren't all him.”

Loki worked his jaw, still staring into the detritus of the room. “I attempted to conquer Midgard this morning with a borrowed army,” he said lightly. “Thor and his ‘friends’ had other ideas.”

“Oh,” said the Other Loki, equally lightly. “Is that all?”

Loki whipped around to face him, furious. “You mock me,” he snapped, as calmly as he could manage. He would not let himself be riled to anger— evidently this strange doppelgänger had not had his fill of reducing him to base emotions. It rankled Loki that he continued to try. 

“Never,” the Other Loki lied, but even though he nakedly sprawled in shameless fashion— one foot tucked up on the sofa, thighs open, a hand resting casually by his cock— he looked at Loki with a gaze most serious. “You don’t need my help for that.”

Loki kept his mouth pressed tightly shut but he could feel his lip twitching with rage. “You have no idea,” he hissed, clenching his fists tightly in their bindings. “None at all.”

“Ah,” said the Other Loki, all sage nods as his eyes traveled over Loki once more. “Perhaps not. Well, don’t worry, you’re as safe now as you’ll ever be.”

Loki glowered at him. “I was leading an invasion force of Chitauri with two Infinity Stones at my beck and call,” he said, and felt a strange twist in his gut. “I’m not helpless, nor am I _worried_. I seek not _safety_.”

The Other Loki looked down at his still-cuffed hands, then back up. “Of course you’re not helpless— we’re never helpless," he sniffed. "But you _are_ scared and seeking comfort, or else you wouldn’t have shown up trussed up like a turkey with only one of your Stones and fallen straight into an unfamiliar Thor’s arms. Or onto his cock, as the case may be.” 

Loki pressed his lips into a thin line, feeling his nostrils flare. “I don’t see how my affairs are any of your business,” he replied, voice cold. But the Other Loki wasn’t cowed. Of course he wouldn’t be. He knew all their tricks, and Loki hated again how exposed he felt.

“Hey… hey, it’s okay,” the Other Loki said, reading him all too well. “Come here, kid. Stop being obstinate for once in your damned life and just… here.” 

He sat up and pulled Loki closer to him, forcing Loki to twist to face him, and for a moment Loki thought he might try to embrace him, but the Other Loki just slipped his hand around the back of Loki’s neck. Trying to comfort him the way Thor always had. The thought made his eyes sting for some reason, left him blinking furiously. 

“Whatever happens… he’s not going to abandon you,” the Other Loki said, voice warm and certain. Loki looked at him hard. 

“You can’t know that,” he said, though he was certain he’d meant to say something else.

“Oh? Can’t I?”

“He already has. He hates me,” Loki gritted out, too rattled to maintain his usual levity. “And it’s mutual, for reasons I am not feeling too obliged to give.”

The Other Loki gave him a wry grin. “Alright. Have it your way. But forgive me if I don’t entirely believe you.” He tucked a stray strand of Loki’s hair back, smoothing it away from his face. “Trust me, I know from Thors, and that hammer-swinging idiot is absolutely besotted with you.” His smile turned wistful. “And you don’t have the faintest clue why, do you?”

Once more, Loki found himself feeling small— small and bewildered in the face of whatever this other Loki seemed to know of their lives that he didn’t. But this was a different world, he reminded himself, and this Loki’s confidence didn’t extend to his realm. They were not the same. Couldn’t be. 

He realized the Other Loki was still touching his hair and felt he should pull away, but he hesitated to move. Hated how strangely comforting it was. The Other Loki gently tilted his chin up, searching his face with those bright, intelligent eyes. He seemed to approve of whatever he saw, for in the next moment he leaned in and kissed Loki softly upon the mouth.

Loki inhaled sharply but didn’t pull away as the Other Loki cupped his jaw and plied him with his lips until Loki relented and let his tongue slip inside. This intimacy felt stranger than all the others, so queerly familiar. Almost comforting. They weren’t one, they _weren’t_ , and yet… 

Somehow his cuffed hands ended up around the Other Loki’s neck once more, fingers curling in the other’s unruly hair, and he was being pulled forward into his lap and held tight as they kissed, his mind spinning with the surreality of it all. 

The Other Loki ran his hands up and down Loki’s sides, firm but still wary of his injuries. He sucked on Loki’s tongue and Loki shivered. He felt so utterly spent and yet so oddly aroused. And despite everything, he found himself melting into the kiss, giving as good as he got until they finally broke apart, faces resting too close. 

He wasn’t sure what he’d been trying to prove, nor if he’d been successful.

The Other Loki merely smiled against his lips. “I promise you,” he said, voice low and husky. “If you kissed your brother like that, he would shatter worlds for you. Hel, I’m already feeling moved to cause some considerable property damage on your behalf.” 

He leaned back against the sofa as he squeezed Loki’s ass and Loki’s eyes fell shut for just a moment, but it felt like a moment too long. When he looked again, the Other Loki was regarding him with something entirely too warm, too fond. ”Seriously. Try a little confidence, would ya?”

Loki narrowed his eyes, lips pressing tight. “I don’t believe you,” he said, unable to resist arguing. “Either of you. Why should I try? There is far too much to erase between he and I. Things might have gone differently, once, but that time is past. I know Thor’s limits, and my own. I will not beg and he will not bend.”

“It’s not too late,” the Other Loki insisted, his hands coming to rest on Loki’s thighs. “It’s never too late to change. You’re the clever one, aren’t you? So be clever.” 

“And you are a fool,” Loki hissed, but it didn’t quite hit its mark.

“ _Yes_ , I am.” the Other Loki said, eyes flashing not with anger but with certainty. “And I would prove it a thousand times over. Better a fool for love than a fool without.” He didn’t wait for a response, just hauled Loki forward into another kiss. Harder this time, even more pushy, and Loki found himself responding in kind, even though he knew that’s exactly what the other was trying to get him to do. It felt like walking into a trap of his own design, and what could possibly be more familiar than that?

“You have no idea the things I’ve done,” the Other Loki breathed against his mouth before claiming it once more, relentless. He fisted a hand in Loki’s hair at his nape, gripping his jaw with the other. 

“Try me,” Loki growled, biting at him in frustration, his anger mounting.

“I ended it all,” the Other Loki whispered, harsh against his mouth. “I brought Ragnarok. I destroyed Asgard, ruined everything for my own selfish purposes and still he brought me back. And then I ruined it all again. I killed our brothers. I nearly killed our _mother_. I betrayed our people and my very few friends. I sided with the enemy time and time again, thinking this would be the one time it turned out differently, where I’d prove myself worthy, but I squandered every last chance. I died so often it ceased to have any meaning. My redemption arcs had redemption arcs, all for nothing.” 

Loki sniffed, attempting to remain unmoved, but the Other Loki kissed down his jaw, biting, and he scratched a hand down Loki’s tender chest, making him whine. 

“I even found a way to kill my last remaining innocence,” the Other Loki said in hushed confession, wringing more gasps and whimpers from him almost as an afterthought. “My child self whom Thor brought back when I died, the innocent boy Thor loved and had so many hopes for. I became nothing more than a parasite, a monster in a stolen skin. I was the murderer and the victim and the weapon all in one. Let me tell you, that wasn’t such a good feeling. So I decided to change, but I did it all wrong. Always so convinced I could do better if only the world would _let_ me. I tried to erase the memories of my past crimes, as if that would truly absolve me. Change me into something better. A spoiler for you: it didn’t.” 

Loki tried to shake him off, not liking where this was going, but the Other Loki’s hand was tight in his hair and so he returned the favor with a growl, yanking as best he could with his cuffed hands. It only earned him a low laugh in reply, and the glint of teeth.

“Here’s the thing about Thor you must understand, little one,” said the Other Loki. “No matter how hard I tried to be unworthy of him, he _refused_ to let me go. Even when I had proven myself beyond doubt to be the foulest of demons, the lowest of worms, the most wretched of traitors… when I had hurt every last person he’d ever loved, when I had killed anything of _myself_ worth recovering… still he stayed. Even when it destroyed him. Even when he could not bear to look upon me, for rage or disgust— I knew it not then but I know it now, that his love never wavered.”

“You can’t know that,” Loki said in a harsh whisper. “It just makes a good story, that’s all.”

“What could be more real than a good story?” the Other Loki challenged, and there was laughter in his voice now, though he didn’t sound happy. “Yes, he hated me, many times over. He swore to cleave my head from my neck— and probably should have, at times— but he never could. For all my faults, for all that he might hate me, he _loved_ me, too. And of course, as we do, I hated him all the more for it. Because his belief in me made me want to try, when I knew I would fail. I saw his love as mockery, as malice. Tormenting me with something forever out of reach. I _hated_ him for making me love him, but in the end, I hated no one greater than myself, little Loki.”

“What a lovely little moral to end your tale. I fail to see its relevance,” Loki sniped, but even he could hear there wasn’t quite enough fire behind it. Part of him longed to know what had changed— how— but he couldn’t bring himself to ask. 

“Listen, you stubborn little whelp.” But the Other Loki wasn’t angered, damn him. He was looking at Loki with such patience, such contemptible _kindness_ it made his guts twist. “Here’s the damned point: if I can crawl my way out of the lowest pit of Hel and accept that love, so can you. You just don’t want to face the possibility.”

“I know what I am. I’ve accepted my monstrosity.”

“Have you? Do you truly know yourself? Or do you only know what you’ve been told?” The Other Loki’s hand tightened in his hair and Loki winced, but not because it felt bad. On the contrary, it was the one thing he was enjoying in this moment. 

“You’ve always been the mistrusted one. You’ve always been so envious,” the Other Loki said, running his fingertips over Loki’s lips. Loki bit down on one that strayed too close to his bared teeth, eyes narrowed, but the Other Loki only smiled and continued to pick him apart. “No one appreciated your talents, hm? No matter how hard you tried, everyone scorned and manipulated you. Demeaned you, beat you, abused you. Well, let me tell you… I’ve been bludgeoned by the best. And let’s not get started on dear old Dad…”

The Other Loki wiggled his finger between Loki’s teeth until he relinquished his grip, assuming he meant to withdraw. Instead, he was surprised by two long fingers sliding forward on his tongue. He shut his eyes, trying not to moan as he felt them stroke into his mouth; felt his cock swelling, impossibly. Damn him. Damn them all.

“This has always been our best weapon, hasn’t it?” The Other Loki murmured, slowly thrusting his fingers in and out of Loki’s mouth. “Our best defense. An acid tongue and a razor keen mind. But they cut and burn both ways, little Loki. You’ve fallen for your own lies, and I don’t blame you. I know our hunger. I know how eagerly we swallow.”

Loki shut his eyes tighter, feeling his pulse picking up as the situation continued slipping further and further out of his control. He moaned as the Other Loki sucked a kiss into the hollow under his jaw, mouth watering as those fingers continued to tease his tongue, tracing his teeth.

“But you’re still hungry, aren’t you. You’ll just keep feeding on yourself til you waste away, and it won’t prove anything.” The Other Loki drew his fingers away and Loki hated the noise of protest that left his throat. 

The Other Loki finally relinquished his grip on Loki’s hair. Surprised, Loki opened his eyes, blinking as his scalp tingled. Licked his lips. He lowered his chin and the Other Loki was looking up at him with intense eyes. He dried his fingers with a small gesture, then cupped Loki’s jaw with both hands, rubbing at his sore jaw where the muzzle had attached. Loki glared at him. This was nearly unbearable. He felt scoured raw, inside and out.

“You didn’t deserve any of that,” the Other Loki said, emphatically. “But stop acting like they were right. They were _never_ right. You were just a child and they feared you because they didn’t understand you. Because they feared _themselves_. And they crushed Thor’s spirit too, even if you can’t see it now.” He huffed, shaking his head. “Hammer aside, that boy’s got daddy issues for days. That’s the thing about brothers: he knows you. He’ll be there for you. He’ll come to understand, if you let him try…”

Loki shut his eyes, trying not to think of all the times he’d tried— all the times Thor told him he was imagining things. He wasn’t so naive to think that Thor could ever understand him. Perhaps he ought to have been more patient— but he’d been patient for centuries and where had that gotten him? How could Thor possibly care to understand. Why hadn’t he listened, why hadn’t he _ever_ listened? Why had Thor turned away when he’d needed him most?

He remembered Thor’s face atop Stark's tower. Pleading, desperate. “ _Together_ ,” he'd said, and Loki knew he’d meant more than just their petty battle over Midgard. He’d wanted to fix what was so badly broken between them. And Loki had been forced to push him away. It had been for the best, hadn’t it? Thor hadn’t understood the pressure he was under. It was precious too little, far too late.

So why had he cried for him?

A cool hand trailed over his temple, grounding him. “I promise you,” the Other Loki murmured. “All the terrible, half-assed stories you’ve ever told yourself will taste like ash once you’ve tasted _him_. He won’t be enough to change you, Loki— that’s not his place. But you don’t need to go it alone.” 

The Other Loki brought their foreheads together and Loki tried not to lean into it, overwhelmed, mind awhirl. “And I see it,” the other said. “How you so desperately long for him. How you look at my brother and envy what I have. Yet here I am, one Loki to another, telling you it can all be yours… and still, you fight me. Still, you’re afraid.”

Loki didn’t dare reply, strangely choked, and the Other Loki sighed. “Strange, isn’t it,” he mused, “how you don’t seek permission for anything else… only this.”

And then he leaned up, pressing a quiet kiss to Loki’s forehead. It sent a strange feeling through him— like a benediction. A reassurance. An encouragement.

“This isn’t permission,” the Other Loki said, soft. “Because you don’t need it. Open your eyes.”

Loki did, cautiously. “What is it, then?” he meant to challenge, but his voice came out quiet and hesitant.

“Just a little kiss for good luck,” the Other Loki said, teasing. His hands cupped Loki’s face once more, stroking his cheeks. “Not that I think you’ll need it. I have faith in you.”

Loki didn’t know what to think of that.

“That makes one of us,” he muttered. Hated how comforting he found his counterpart’s touch, even as his words flayed him. Loki frowned but didn’t pull away. Not even when one of the Other Loki’s hands eventually drifted down his tender, bruised chest to settle a palm over his hip, rubbing with his thumb over Loki’s lower stomach. He was so drained, so spent, yet his cock was primed from earlier and responded to the touch.

“Let me ask you something— why did you come here?” The Other Loki leaned in, speaking quietly against his lips. “How did you find this place?” And then his hand slipped down to wrap around Loki’s cock, and Loki let out a harsh breath as he stiffened further in his hand.

“I know not,” he said, even as he realized he did, and the Other Loki squeezed him just shy of too hard.

“Liar,” he said, fondly, and Loki groaned. 

“I’m not lying, not this time,” he said, lying his ass off. “Why would I lie to you, it’s futile.”

“Of course it is, and that’s exactly why you’re doing it,” said the Other Loki, stroking him to full hardness and oh, Loki _hated_ him, hated how he could so easily manipulate his body and how he couldn’t fool him for anything, he hated him so very much.

“Did you stop to think,” the Other Loki continued— and Loki felt him summon oil into his hand, dripping warm down over Loki’s erect flesh and chasing it with his palm— “That perhaps, you might need to remember what it is he loves about you?”

“Stop,” Loki growled, but his hips rocked forward into Loki’s grip. The Other Loki knew he wasn’t referring to his touch.

“It hurts, doesn’t it? Thinking you might actually be worthy of him? That perhaps, the only thing truly standing in your way is _you_? It’s very nearly the worst pain there is…” The Other Loki tilted his chin to force Loki to look into his eyes, to see them shining not with false sympathy, but with something far worse— deep, hard-won understanding. 

He suddenly seemed far older than Loki had first taken him for. Perhaps not such a fool after all. 

“The most terrible pain being, of course, the thought of never having him. Of never feeling his touch. Of denying yourself all your long life until you one day should be so lucky as to die of bitterness and grief and heartache. Of forsaking your brother and dooming him to the same. For nothing will ever change that: he _is_ your brother. Isn’t he.”

Loki almost bit out an automatic response, a firm denial, but what fell from his lips was a hushed and painful admission: “ _Yes_.”

The Other Loki smiled, and nothing in his face looked sorrowful, but Loki could feel it as his counterpart drew them into a kiss once more, and then he was stroking Loki so deftly, it was almost like touching himself. Loki took a shuddering gasp against his mouth, those lips so plush against his own. He was so close, somehow; far too close. 

“Think of it this way,” the Other Loki murmured against his lips, following with a teasing lick. “What greater vengeance against our terrible fathers could there be than living well and fucking our beautiful, golden Thors?”

Loki groaned, hands tightening in his hair, and the Other Loki laughed in quiet delight. “Just _think_ about it,” he urged, nipping at Loki’s bottom lip. “Think about being able to reach out and touch him the way you’ve always wanted. Think about the look on his face when he realizes you seek the same desperate thing he’s always fought to keep at bay? Think about ending petty fights with your lips and your teeth and your cocks rather than your fists. Although I will say, that can be pretty fun, too…”

Loki felt lightheaded, strangely close to a swoon, and he let himself put his weight into his forearms resting on the Other Loki’s shoulders. Shuddering as the Other Loki toyed with him, prolonging his agony, drawing out his pleasure.

“Think about it…” came the insistent whisper. “Because _he_ certainly is. He wants to have you, and be had by you. He yearns to be loved by you, fully, in every way you’ll have him. All this hatred we speak of? It’s merely an aphrodisiac for the likes of us.”

Loki was in a daze, lulled by the other’s voice, and the sure stroke on his cock, and he desperately wanted to come, so badly, and the Other Loki leaned in, pulling him closer to kiss him once again. “C’mon. Tell me you hate me,” he said. “I know you want to.” Loki growled, not wanting to oblige him but doing it anyway, out of perversity.

“I hate you.”

“Tell me again,” with a nip to his lower lip.

“I _hate_ you,” he said again, growing angrier with every passing moment, but the hand on his cock didn’t falter.

“Again.”

“I— I _hate_ you,” he choked out, drowning in his rage.

“Mm, good… again,” the Other Loki said, kissing him breathless and his hand, oh, touching him so cleverly, so good, so terribly good, and Loki gasped and faltered. 

“I… ohh…”

“Tell me, Loki,” the Other Loki urged, stripping him faster. “Tell me how much you utterly loathe and despise me.”

“I—” And Loki’s head was all but spinning, and he choked on a sudden sob. “I…” A strangled scream of frustration escaped him, and the Other Loki pulled him closer, holding him tight, tucking his face into Loki’s neck.

“Again,” he urged. “Come on, you can do it. Tell me you hate me. If you say it enough, you’ll make it true.”

Loki let out another broken sob, feeling unbearably cracked open and raw. “I— _please_.” Shame instantly flooded him, at being reduced to this, to begging for absolution from himself, but the Other Loki didn’t laugh, didn’t falter, just stroked his hair.

“It’s easy. Just… tell me that you hate me. _Lie_ , if you have to.”

Loki felt hot tears running down his face. “I can’t,” he whispered, shamed, on the edge of orgasm or hysteria or both. “I don’t want to.”

“Why did you come here, boy?” the Other Loki asked again, softly, working him with slick, sure movements, and Loki felt something in him break.

“I asked for somewhere… unnnngh… somewhere _safe_.”

The Other Loki kissed his temple and it seared like a knife. “And it brought you here. To him.”

“No,” Loki moaned, feeling tear drops hitting his chest, but the Other Loki just kissed his temple again, and then his brow. 

“Mm,” and suddenly his voice was rough with desire. “Say that again.”

“No,” Loki gasped, feeling a strange arousal surge within him, and he felt the other’s lips smile against him. 

“Tell me to stop,” the Other Loki urged him, wiping Loki’s cheek with his thumb. Loki blinked through the blurry veil of his tears, watched his counterpart suck the salt into his mouth, those bright eyes gone nearly black, before he leaned in to nose back into Loki’s hair. 

“Tell me to give up on you, Loki,” he demanded. “Tell me to stop.” There was a terrible tension, taut and fizzing in his voice.

“Please, stop…” Loki begged, clutching at him, feeling like he could swoon, so close, he was so _close_.

“Do you really want me to,” the Other Loki asked, a dark murmur near his ear, and Loki shuddered, the spasm wracking its way down his spine.

“No,” he whispered, almost choking on another sob as the Other Loki’s thumb slipped over the head of his cock, and he was wet, oh, he was so wet, coiled so tight— “No, please.”

“I’ve got you,” the Other Loki said, running his tongue along the shell of Loki’s ear and making him writhe. “All you need to do is let go.”

Loki sensed motion and looked up, startled to see Thor re-entering the room. Thor’s eyes settled on him and his chest rose with a sudden inhale. 

“ _Brother_ ,” Loki called out before he could stop himself, and the overcome look of love and yearning and desire that stole across Thor’s face— it was everything he'd ever wanted, as beautiful and terrifying as anything he'd seen Thor do in the heat of battle. Overwhelmed, Loki could only hide from him, burying his face in the Other Loki’s shoulder as he came with a terrible sob, body wracked by his shuddering exhale. 

It felt like dying.

The Other Loki held him tight and stroked him through it, milking him for all he was worth, and Loki, to his utmost horror, began to cry with great heaving sobs, as if a dam had been broken, and he squeezed his eyes shut and cling to his other self like a child, weeping pitifully. He wished he would be slapped or pushed to the floor amongst all the other refuse, but the Other Loki only held him close and rocked him, just a little, rubbing his back and cradling his jaw and smoothing his hair. Not shushing him, just humming, low and comforting.

As if this humiliation wasn’t enough, he felt Thor settle on the couch behind him and put his hands on Loki’s back as well, rubbing over his hips, down to his thighs and back. He pressed a kiss to the back of Loki’s neck, another softly to his shoulder, and Loki spilled over with fresh sobs.

“No shame, little brother,” Thor said to him, voice warm on his skin. “You should see how much he cries.”

True enough, when Loki finally managed to pull back and face himself, the Other Loki’s eyes were shining and his cheeks were wet. 

“I didn’t really know if that would help,” he admitted, helping Loki shakily bring his arms back down between them. “But I’m glad it did. Sometimes you just need a good, classic tearjerker, if you know what I mean.” 

Loki let out a shaky laugh, though he didn’t know if it was truly funny or not. “Ugh… Norns. I… oh, I…”

“Here.” Thor was pressing a glass of water into his hand, and Loki had gulped it down before he’d even realized he’d put it to his lips. “For shame, Loki. I go to get him a drink and then you dehydrate him even further.” 

The Other Loki rolled his eyes, refilling Loki’s glass with a gesture. “He’s fine, he’s from hardy stock. Take the cuffs off him though, won’t you?”

Thor dutifully repeated the inscription, wrapping himself around Loki from behind and holding his wrists as if he was something delicate. Loki gasped as the cuffs fell away and he felt his magic return to him— first as a trickle, and then a flood. He nearly swooned, unmoored, and found two pairs of hands steadying him. 

“Easy,” Thor said, as the Other Loki rescued the cup from him. “It’s alright, little one.”

After a minute, Loki’s vision cleared and he felt less faint, and managed to sit back up. The Other Loki pressed the glass of water back to his lips, and Loki only hesitated a moment before drinking. If he was to play an invalid, he may as well commit to the part.

After drinking two more glasses, he held up his hand and hiccuped. The Other Loki pulled the cup away, and then suddenly Thor was coaxing him backward. Loki meant to warn him of the mess in his lap, but the Other Loki had evidently taken care of it, for there was no stickiness, no wetness to be found anywhere. And then he was being engulfed in Thor’s broad arms, drowning in his brother’s chest, his heat and his scent, and the Other Loki was murmuring something softly, a blessedly cool hand brushing his hair back from his clammy forehead.

And then for a brief, strange moment before he slipped into oblivion, he knew something like peace. 

 

“What took you so long?” Loki asked quietly, stretching and wiping the tears from his cheeks. 

“I didn’t wish to interrupt before you’d had a chance to speak to him,” Thor demurred softly, looking over at him with what Loki would have once considered to be unbearable fondness. “Some things are best kept between Lokis.” The younger Loki slumbered softly against his chest, pale and still bruised, looking even more vulnerable in repose.

“You may be right about that,” Loki nodded. “And he is so very much one of us. I’m glad he found you.”

He was still admittedly uncomfortably aroused, even with the intense outpouring of his own secrets and all crying— such things were far from mutually exclusive in his world— but the moment had certainly passed. There would be other opportunities for satisfying his baser needs, and this had been a vastly more important task. 

After all, he knew well the look of himself at rock bottom, and it wasn’t a place he wished anyone to be. The poor, young thing. Had it been enough?

Thor looked down at the sleeping figure in his arms. “I want to explain,” he said, quietly, before meeting Loki’s eyes. “I don’t want you to think me cruel for leaving him bound.”

Loki shook his head. “I think you made the right call. He didn’t ask you to free him, did he.”

“No,” Thor confirmed, slowly nodding to himself as he looked down at the other Loki once more. “Not once, which was my first hint that something was amiss. He was not afraid of me, not truly, and there was something fierce in his eye, but he trembled when I touched him and his heart raced. It was as if he’d sought me out in desperation, though I don’t think he understood it himself. I thought, perhaps, if he did not have to explain…”

“Mmm,” Loki said, deep in thought. “Good intuition. I’m glad he found you as you are now, and not a less evolved version from our younger years.” He gave Thor a gentle smile, watching him roll his eyes, before contemplating his other self. “He’s so wonderfully feisty, isn’t he? So obstinate, and so sad around the eyes. Such a handsome, lost thing. I almost wish we could keep him.”

“That was you, not so very long ago,” Thor reminded him, as if he wasn’t painfully aware. Loki watched him gently stroke the young Loki’s arm, as if to comfort him even in the depths of his sleep, and felt a warm ache in his chest. Thor sighed. “He has a long walk ahead of him, I fear… wherever it is he’s meant to be.”

“I always wonder, you know,” Loki mused, running his fingertips over his lips. “How many of us are out there, in different places, different times. If they all manage to figure it out, in the end. I’m far too used to meeting my past self, or my future self, or my future-past self… but this one, he surprises me.”

Loki scooted closer, hooking his chin over Thor’s shoulder, watching where Thor’s tanned skin gave way to the younger Loki’s pale bruising. He absently scritched his fingers along the back of Thor’s neck, up into his hairline. “He’s something entirely new, and yet I _know_ him, Thor. And I love him all the same. You do too, don’t you? I just want him to be alright…”

Thor hummed. “We’ll see if he’s still here in the morning and wants to speak of his world,” he said, eyes warm but wistful. “If his abilities have been restored, we may very well not see him again.”

Loki pursed his lips, trying not to smile.

“No. He’ll be here.”

Thor turned, trying to looked at him with wry suspicion, and Loki slid back so their eyes could meet. “Oh?” Thor asked. “The Norns whispering in your ear again? Have you been at your scrying mirror?” He grinned, looking far too pleased with his own tease. ”Or perhaps you saw it in his glass of water?”

“You think far too grandiosely, my dear, foolish brother.” Loki shrugged an easy shoulder, relaxing back against the arm of the sofa. “It’s quite simple, really.”

“Is it now?” Thor inclined his head, narrowing his eyes as he tried to suss out the source of Loki’s certainty.

“Well, yes,” Loki grinned. “I have his Tesseract.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are everything, thank you for all the lovely feedback on the first two chapters!  
> One more left and then a little surprise >:)
> 
> Come wail with me on [Twitter](https://twitter.com/seidrade)


	4. To Writhe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And I stand by what I said.” The Other Loki vanished the bacon into his mouth, then sipped his coffee. He swallowed and paused a moment before tilting his head in strangely feline, scheming fashion. “How’s this? Let’s play a game. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”
> 
> Loki almost choked on his drink. “What?”
> 
> “C’mon. Get blue. It’ll be fun.” The Other Loki said, setting his mug upon the table. “Here, I’ll go first.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... it turns out that this story had more in her than I was expecting. Not entirely sure how many chapters she's got left, but it'll be a good handful more because I wanna give these boys a proper resolution. (Ain't that just the way, when you're supposed to be working on other things?)
> 
> Please observe the new tags! Loki is working through some body issues in this one, on several levels. 
> 
> As always, all mistakes are mine.

_xx_

Loki awoke with groggy reluctance to an abrasive noise, high-pitched and wheeling. Bright, soft light filtered into his vision as he blinked, trying to ascertain his surroundings. It felt as though he were moving underwater, but he was warm, so very warm. What _was_ that incessant crying?

And then the last twenty four hours all came flooding back to him, and Loki realized with a start that he had just been sleeping on a ratty sofa in the hull of a boat belonging to a Thor who was not his, and who was in fact, was currently laying on his back beneath Loki, still slumbering away.

Loki sat up too fast and instantly regretted it, his head spinning.

“Easy now,” came a familiar voice, and Loki looked up, startled from his daze— blinking against the grey diffuse light. The Other Loki stood before him, clad in soft, tight breeches and a loose, crimson tunic that was suspiciously large on him, hanging nearly off one shoulder. “I was going to let you rest longer after the night you had, but the gulls had other ideas.” He spread his hands apologetically. “Thor gets annoyed when I turn them into frogs. Says it’s upsetting the delicate balance of the endemic species in the estuary. I say it’s already a Superfund site so really, what are a few extra amphibians.”

“Right,” Loki said, his voice rasping. He cared little for talk of frogs; his mind was still stuck on ‘the night you had,’ and he shuddered to remember all the three of them had done together. Ah, and the weeping— that was why his eyes felt so damned sore, in addition to his ass. And, he realized, he was still naked, though someone had at least covered him with a blanket. Loki clutched at it, then clutched his head. He felt almost feverish, close to a swoon. He needed to get out of here.

“I should be— on my way—” he said, though it came out as a pitiable moan.

“You’ll want some of this,” the Other Loki padded over, his footsteps almost inaudible, and handed Loki a glass containing a strange looking brew that smelled like bitter liquorice root and Norns knew what else. “Trust me. Works great for hangovers of the body _and_ of the soul. And whatever the hel else you’ve got going on.”

Loki regarded it, then him, with suspicion. But he supposed if the Other Loki had intended to harm him, he’d already had plenty opportunities. He knocked the concoction back, trying not to retch, and managed to swallow it all down. The Other Loki took the glass from him, then leaned down til they were eye-level.

“C’mon,” he said gently, doing a poor job of hiding his amused grin. “Fresh air will do you good. Thor will wake up shortly and then we’ll sort out breakfast. I can magic up some coffee, but trust me, the rest is better done properly.”

 

And that was how Loki ended up wrapped in a blanket, clutching a cup of strong, black coffee— which did wonders to clear his senses— and sitting on the upper deck of Thor’s tugboat, enjoying the fresh salt air and listening to an assortment of bizarre tales his other self nimbly spun, one after the other. It was an odd relief to be spared having to share any of his own story just yet, and so Loki warily allowed himself to rest and listen with half an ear to the Other Loki describe his taming of the Disir— who sounded loathsome, albeit useful— and tricking someone named Mephisto into giving up part of Hel, as well as his discovery of Midgardian breakfast meats, which seemed to be an especial point of excitement for him.

It was perhaps a half hour later when Loki felt the telltale shift of Thor’s weight making its way up the stairs to the deck. He appeared clothed in a black tunic, grey mail leggings and black boots that made him look somewhat more like Loki’s own Thor. The night’s sleep had evidently refreshed him greatly, for he seemed to shine in the grey of the late morning. 

“Brothers,” he greeted, coming forward to press a kiss to the Other Loki’s hair, and then doing the same to Loki, a fond light in his eyes. Loki’s head still pulsed slightly, but he couldn’t bring himself to be entirely angry at the familiarity— although he was abashed to remember the night before. The look on Thor’s face when Loki had finally acknowledged him; the one that had sent him over the edge.

The Other Loki summoned a mug of coffee and handed it up to Thor, nodding companionably at the empty chair to his left. “I was just telling him about the time we accidentally took the tugboat on a road trip through Niflheim, damned goat and all.”

“Ah,” Thor leaned back in his seat, grinning broadly. “That was a rather grand adventure. Though I still hold that you made my death unnecessarily painful.”

The Other Loki smirked. “Well, of course. You had to _believe_ it.”

“You were just about to say— Thanos,” Loki cut in, still reeling at the thought that he himself had _children_ in this universe; the very same brood the mortals from his own time wrote about in myth, at that. It was uncanny, but there were other, greater issues. “He was there, in Niflheim? What did he want with Hela?”

“Oh…” the Other Loki waved idly, sipping his coffee. “I think she fancied they were an item, but he evidently had another deathly mistress he sought to please. I don’t know _what_ Hela saw in him, honestly, but you can’t talk any sense into these kids. Thankfully it seems she’s getting on better with Karnilla these days— they actually sent me a Father’s Day card signed from both of them and Fenris, can you believe?”

“He seeks the Stones in my universe,” Loki said, cutting back to the important thread of conversation before it got lost in the Other Loki’s rambling. He felt the tension creeping back into his shoulders. “He deployed me to conquer Midgard and retrieve the Tesseract for him. Odin sent Thor to stop me, but they couldn’t possibly have understood what it was that they faced. I suppose I ought to feel flattered they assumed I could gather such an army without any patrons.”

He didn’t miss the glance the other two shared between themselves. 

“He sent you?” Thor asked, and Loki nodded, taking a slow, steadying breath.

“Yes. Around a year ago, I believe, I… Thor and I got into a fight and I fell from the Bifrost. Into the… the void. But I survived.” Loki forced himself to breathe evenly. “He eventually found me.”

“Fell?” the Other Loki pressed, and Loki could only meet his gaze for a moment. Perhaps it truly was futile to dissemble to a liar such as himself. 

“Let go,” he amended. At least, he thought he had— for a time he’d been certain Thor had thrown him, but now, he thought perhaps the final choice had been his after all. Something about that memory was still uncomfortably, suspiciously hazy. “At any rate, I managed to fail, somewhat, at my mission to subdue Midgard.”

Thinking about it brought a spark of cheer to him. After all, he’d managed to free himself from both Asgard and the Titan; whatever else had gone awry, that had been a resounding success. 

“Thanks to Thor and his little friends,” he continued, “Thanos’ army was destroyed, my universe is now missing a stone, and the Titan has been left entirely empty handed, unable to reach the Nine Realms. And from your description, it sounds as though I have rather little to fear from the Thanos of this dimension.” Loki paused. “So… really, I suppose I am free to do as I wish, seeing as there is no pressing need for me to return to my own time.”

“I can think of one,” the Other Loki said, softly.

 

Over breakfast, Loki told them more. Of his attempt to waylay Thor’s coronation, and Thor’s subsequent banishment. Of his discovery of his true parentage, his slaying of Laufey, his attacks upon Thor on Midgard and upon Jotunheim. Of Thor breaking the Bifrost bridge and his own, perhaps-purposeful fall. Of his time spent drifting in the outermost reaches of the galaxy, his encounters with Thanos and his children, and the terrible deals he’d made. Of his run-ins with the Avengers as he attempted to mold them into a team, and his ‘failed’ invasion. The whole thing spilled from him uncontrollably, and Thor had to remind him multiple times to stop and eat.

“Well… on the downside, you have indeed made some breathtakingly terrible decisions, as a Loki is wont to do,” the Other Loki said, contemplating. “But on the bright side: you’re alive, Thor is alive, and Midgard still stands. As you said, you’ve certainly set Thanos back a ways in his efforts. As far as mortal enemies who want you dead, he isn’t ideal, but he does suffer from delusions of grandeur and he can _certainly_ be dealt with.”

Loki swallowed his bite of bacon. “You speak as though you’ve defeated him already.”

The Other Loki bobbled his head from side to side, pulling a sheepish face. “I mean… sort of. I’ve collected the stones and wielded the Gauntlet a handful of times, but then I ended up going back in time because there were… ehhh, extenuating circumstances.” He waved his hand dismissively. “Look, it’s complicated. Anything with those damned rocks always is. But to answer your question, yes, I’ve killed him before and I’d gladly do it again.”

Loki felt as if he shouldn’t have asked. Nothing in this strange place seemed to make sense. Thor reached out and squeezed his shoulder. 

“Just remember, Loki: you’re not alone. Even if you seem at odds now, your Thor will eventually see the greater threat and understand you are his ally in this. His love for you will always overcome.”

Loki frowned, deciding to ignore certain parts of that statement. “I don’t think he is capable of such compartmentalized thought at the moment. He thinks me a heartless villain. And he now knows we do not share blood.” He realized quickly how much bitterness had crept into his tone and attempted to rein it in. “I believe I am the very last person he wishes to cross paths with; except for to see me imprisoned, or worse. Even if he gives me the chance to speak, the likelihood of him believing anything I say is nearly nonexistent. He knows me to be a liar— that our entire life together has been a lie.”

“But you _are_ brothers,” Thor insisted, frowning. “Did he ever claim you were not? I cannot imagine he would.”

Loki hesitated. “Not yet,” he admitted. “But I am certain he will soon disavow our kinship if he has not already. We have spoken little in the interim, save for in the midst of battle.” Tried to push from his mind the memory of Thor’s pleading eyes, right before Loki had shoved a blade between his ribs. Had that truly only been yesterday?

“You seem awful sure of that,” the Other Loki cut in, stretching his legs out to rest his feet on Thor’s thick thighs. “I’d bet my left nut that he doesn’t care that you’re a frost giant. Hel, I’d bet the right one, too.”

Loki clenched his teeth, feeling his jaw tic. The list of reasons for Thor to hate him was so very long; there was no need for that particular issue to be brought up again. Clearly this was meant only to needle him. “Not so great a loss, for one such as you,” he countered, and the Other Loki cackled.

“Perhaps not. But! That’s not the point. Have you ever given him the chance? To see you?”

“Why should I?” Loki snipped back, annoyed at the impertinent tone, as well as the implication this was somehow his own fault. “I pointed out our father’s hypocrisy several times over and he cared not, so long as it served his own purpose. When he saw me returned from death, his first action was to throw me into a mountainside. He’s always believed me capable of monstrosity and there’s no need—”

“Because you love him—” the Other Loki interrupted, firmly. “ _That’s_ why you should give him the chance. And he loves you wholly, completely, in every way he can. I know that with more certainty than anything.”

Loki scoffed. “Not like that, he doesn’t.” And then he blanched, his stomach plummeting. 

“What is it?” Thor asked, sensing his distress. Loki swallowed, trying to school his gaze, keep it from darting frantically about.

“In the midst of everything, I’d all but forgotten. About _her_.”

“Who?” It was the Other Loki’s turn to question him and Loki took a steadying breath, clenching his hands under the blanket.

“He’s gone and fallen for a mortal, like a complete fool,” he said, and there was no hiding this bitterness in his voice now. How had she possibly slipped his mind? The woman Thor had known for all of a handful of days before he’d thrown his entire heart away. Because she was simple and _good_ , and Loki was neither of those things. 

He hadn’t ever really believed there was a chance for him and Thor— but the reminder of that bland, mousy woman so easily replacing him at Thor’s side was still a harsh sting, eating at him like a poisoned blade.

“When the Bifrost broke, he was cut off from her, but I imagine now that he’s been sent back to Midgard, he’ll be overjoyed to see her. He’s probably with her at this very moment.” Loki spoke lightly but the pang in his heart was insistent. Thor had only been reunited with her because of Loki's own actions… Oh, the miserable irony. His guts churned at the thought of Thor’s large hands upon her weak, diminutive form. How could Thor possibly think she could ever be enough for him, how could she ever come close— 

“Is this Jane Foster you speak of?” Thor asked, eyeing him keenly, and Loki blinked in surprise.

“I— yes, it is.” Truly, was there no end to the phenomena mirrored between their worlds? Of course she would haunt him here as well.

“Ah,” Thor said, nodding slowly in contemplation. “Jane and I… in this world, we had a very special relationship. We were together, for a time, and I did love her— I suppose some part of me always will, for she is a truly remarkable woman, and so very admirable— but in the end, I was not right for her, nor she for me. I know the choice I would make a thousand times over.”

He reached out for the Other Loki’s arm and squeezed. The Other Loki rolled his eyes and scoffed, which did nothing to hide how genuinely touched he was. Even in his aggravation, Loki couldn’t help a brief, faint smile. 

“She _was_ Thor for a bit, you know,” the Other Loki mentioned, in a clear attempt to change the subject. “She was wielding Mjolnir and had the little outfit and everything. The oaf even gave her his _name_. She became the new Thor and he just went by Odinson! What a nob.”

“It seemed like the right thing to do at the time!” Thor protested, smiling when his grip on the Other Loki’s arm was finally smacked away. “And besides, it had Odin steaming mad.”

The Other Loki cackled. “Oh gods. That’s a fair point, I couldn’t have thought up a better scheme if I tried. He looked like a troll pissed in his pudding for _months_. Kept trying to have her arrested as a threat to Asgard, the buffoon.”

Loki watched all this with detached bemusement. Maybe not so similar, after all— imagining that tiny, pathetic woman lifting the hammer and commanding its power was laughable, to say the least. The Jane of this world must have had something else to commend her.

“At any rate, my Thor is assuredly still enamored,” he shrugged, peevish. “I’m sure he’ll be occupied with that for the next couple decades, until she perishes of something mundane and uninteresting.”

“So what, he has a big heart,” the Other Loki said. “Along with— uh, other things, as you well know—but trust me,” he yelped, ducking when Thor rolled his eyes and tried to cuff him over the head. “I’ve seen them all come and go. I’ve had to beat them back with a stick and even been beaten by them a few times— gods, Jane really had a mean swing with that thing. But look, just remember: for better or worse, no one will ever come close to sharing the bond with Thor that you do.” The Other Loki smiled, tilting his head encouragingly. “You’re a rare breed, kiddo.” 

Loki thinned his lips, eyeing his own hands. “I rather wish that weren’t the case.” Not entirely true, perhaps, for there were a few distinctly uncommon qualities he possessed that he would admit to some vanity over. But on the whole, there were certainly large swaths of his being which he’d gladly excise in an instant, if only he were able. 

“Brother, are you sensing a theme?” Thor said, gazing over at the Other Loki.

“Indeed, I am,” the Other Loki mused, brandishing the slice of cold bacon he’d been nibbling and shaking it at Loki. “You’re a real downer, you know that?”

“You wished to know the circumstances of my life, did you not?” Loki said with a frown, choosing to take offense at what he presumed to be an insult. 

“And I stand by what I said.” The Other Loki vanished the bacon into his mouth, then sipped his coffee. He swallowed and paused a moment before tilting his head in strangely feline, scheming fashion. “How’s this? Let’s play a game. I’ll show you mine if you show me yours.”

Loki almost choked on his drink. “What?”

“C’mon. Get blue. It’ll be fun.” The Other Loki said, setting his mug upon the table. “Here, I’ll go first.”

And then Loki watched, horrified, as without any further preamble, his counterpart turned the same terrible shade that he’d seen on his own skin in the royal vault. The Other Loki’s eyes didn’t change, oddly— still the same white sclera and bright green iris— and he didn’t have the same raised markings Loki did, but there were hints of dark tattoos at his temples, poking out from beneath his hairline. He was unmistakably Jotun.

Loki swallowed, feeling his hands shaking. “I cannot.”

Thor put a large, steadying hand on his back, rubbing over the blanket. “No one will judge you here, brother. All of us are descended from Jotun stock, it is nothing to be ashamed of. My own mother, Gaea—”

“No, you buffoon,” Loki hissed through clenched teeth, hands tightening on his mug until he thought it might break. “Even if I wanted to, I can’t do it on my own.” It was a lie of omission— the last thing he desired was to lay eyes or hands on the Casket right now. He hated the way it called to him. Better to keep it tucked safely away and think about it as little as possible. It was a bargaining chip; no more, no less.

Thor withdrew, knowing better than to prod a prickly Loki, but the Other Loki wasn’t so easily deterred. He rose from his chair and rounded the breakfast table, coming to kneel before Loki and holding out his hands, palms up.

“Trust me,” he said, with a gentle, empathetic gaze.

And Loki didn’t _want_ to, knew he shouldn’t, but he felt something odd surging within him in reply, something screaming to break free from his chest. Like the singing of the Casket, but worse, because it came with a kindly face; one that he remembered close to his own, whispering words meant to wreck him, break him down completely. He knew how dangerous this other self was.

And perhaps that was why, after a long pause, he finally found himself nodding stiffly. “If it will satisfy you,” he said, hearing his own voice ring hollow, toneless.

The Other Loki smiled as he reached within Loki’s blanket to touch his bare knee. Loki shuddered as he watched his faintly bruised Asgardian pallor give way to Jotun blue. He could feel the cold spreading with that horrid, tingling itch, and he shut his eyes as it made it up to his face. The cool ocean air suddenly felt much warmer, almost muggy. He could feel the other changes— deeper, buried inside of him. Changes he had never had the chance nor inclination to explore. He did not imagine he would like what he found.

“Oh dear,” the Other Loki said, and Loki’s eyes flew open in worry. At first he thought the Other Loki was reacting to his appearance, but no; he was merely looking down at Loki’s coffee cup in mild amusement. It had completely frozen solid. “I suppose I should have had you set that down.”

Something cracked in Loki and he began to laugh, high and thin and awful, and then after a few moments the laugh turned into a strained noise and all of a sudden, to his horror, he was sobbing. And then he realized his tears were somehow freezing on his cheeks, which made him laugh again quite unexpectedly, for he hadn’t known such a thing to be possible— were his tears in this form not composed of salt?— and this was a sudden, painful reminder of just how little he knew of this terrible, bestial form, which only caused him to sob all the more. 

It was pathetic to carry on like this, but he couldn’t regret any of it, because truly, Loki knew in the depths of himself that this shame was well-deserved.

The Other Loki ducked around behind him and simply held him, swaddled in the blanket, and pressed their cheeks together. Loki thought about resisting but he was still so tired. Closed his eyes and gave into it. The Other Loki’s touch didn’t feel cold at all.

After a few minutes of letting his tears run down and form icicles off his chin, Loki felt wrung out and completely exhausted yet again, his sore eyelids protesting. A few thin laughs escaped him, as if trying to stave off the horror that would soon follow. When he dared glance over at Thor from underneath his tear-frosted lashes, he was annoyed to see him looking back with a soft gaze, as if he found the scene touching, or somehow heartwarming. 

Loki wanted to lash out at anything, _everything_ , but as he gathered himself— to do what, he did not know— the Other Loki merely unstuck their frosted cheeks and deposited his unnervingly-hued self in Loki’s lap, blocking Thor from his sight. He produced a handkerchief from somewhere and Loki accepted it, trying to brush the crystals from his eyes, break the tiny icicles from his jaw.

“You know what you need…” the Other Loki said, trailing off for a moment, as if he expected Loki to reply. “You need to cut yourself some slack. I know that’s rich, coming from me. But you might be young enough still to learn some new tricks.”

Loki glowered up at him, sniffling, still feeling raw and on edge. He flinched in surprise as the Other Loki’s hands suddenly slipped beneath his blanket fortress to trace over the kin markings on his chest.

“So handsome, they are…” his counterpart trailed off. “And so very different from the markings I’m used to seeing. I wonder what all they might signify…”

“As do I…” Loki finally admitted with a sigh, glancing down at the back of his hand. Remembering the first time he saw those strange, raised lines. “I haven’t exactly had time to read up on them.” He shuddered, still feeling like a raw, exposed nerve. “In my Asgard, the Jotnar are the creatures of nightmares. Barely better than beasts.”

The Other Loki trailed his fingertips up Loki’s chest and then cupped his face, thumbs gently brushing away the last crystalline remnants of his tears. “I’ve met the creatures of nightmare, and trust me, brother, we’re far from it.” His lips quirked into a grin laden with irony. “And alright, sure, Frost Giants can be a bit brutal, and I’m not terribly fond of dear old Dad, not after he ate me that one time— but anyway, I’m getting sidetracked. You look as lovely as ever and I think your fears about Thor will all prove to be for naught.”

Loki furrowed his brow, distracted for a moment from his own anxiety. “I’m sorry, your father did _what_?”

The Other Loki waved his hand airily. “Don’t worry, I murdered him a second time for it and then took his crown. It was very satisfying and dramatic. But anyway, all ice under the bridge, isn’t it?”

And then he was rising from Loki’s lap, and Loki was forced to confront the fact that Thor was still sitting just across from him, gazing at him with aggravating patience and fondness. Loki narrowed his eyes, standing up and drawing the blanket tighter around himself. 

“The hospitality has been appreciated,” he said, schooling his face into a mask of placid calm. “But I really ought to be taking my leave.” What he needed was to go inside, get rid of this horrid appearance— it was not his skin, it _was not_ — and reassemble himself into something vaguely presentable, then collect his belongings and vanish. And possibly spend the next several months trying to scour his mind of all that had transpired here… 

Thor caught him by the blanket as he tried to edge by and Loki looked down at him, pursing his lips. 

“What,” he said, peevishly, and was annoyed to see Thor smile.

“To think of all the pleasantries I missed out on while you were wearing that muzzle,” Thor teased, then tugged him off balance without warning. Loki landed in his lap with an angry yelp, then instantly stiffened as he felt his shoulder skim Thor’s bare arm.

“I’ll burn you,” he hissed a warning and threat both, arching away, but Thor merely scoffed.

“I don’t think you really have it in you,” he replied, and slowly put his flesh hand on Loki’s shoulder. Loki held his breath, waiting for the inevitable recoil, but it never came. He only felt Thor’s immense heat.

“You see?” Thor said, encouraging in a manner that would be patronizing if it weren’t so annoyingly earnest. “It’s fine. There’s nothing to be afraid of.”

Loki bit the inside of his lip. “For the moment. I can’t control it.”

“Sit with me for a minute,” Thor requested. “I will prove it to you.” 

Loki hesitated, and when he didn’t move away, Thor took that as his cue to manhandle him until Loki was facing him, straddling those thick thighs. Thor went to unwrap the blanket but Loki panicked and clutched it to him tighter, glaring. He still didn’t know what exactly lay in wait down below, but he could make his guesses, seeing as how he felt so strangely _open_ between his legs. Just as he had last night.

“What are you doing,” he hissed, suddenly nervous. They were both merely treating him like a toy, like some trifling amusement to be passed between them, and he wouldn’t stand for it. “You fumbling oaf, you pathetic—” 

Thor was kissing his neck. Thor’s lips _burned_. Loki felt the air leave his lungs all in a rush. Those big hands were steadily working their way under the blanket and oh… they both felt so hot on his skin, metal and flesh, each a torment in its own way. Loki hissed again, for different reasons. 

“He’s never touched you like this,” Thor said, breath like fire against his neck. “So I will be the first.”

The sheer possession in those simple words sent heat rushing down Loki’s spine, even where Thor wasn’t touching. He could almost forget himself for a moment, but then he looked down and saw his blue, marked hands and felt ill, even as his blood suddenly pulsed between his legs in a way that felt uncomfortably like— 

“Look at me, brother.”

Loki did, feeling horribly naked in a way that went far deeper than his skin and lack of clothing. “What do you want now,” he gritted out. “Haven’t you had enough fun yet?” _Tormenting me with what I cannot have,_ will _not have._

“To think,” Thor said, mildly. “We were making such great progress. Do you really think I’ve not had him in his other skin before?” A hint of cockiness entered his voice and his smile. “Do you think I know not how to please you in this form?” 

Loki scowled. Thor knew perfectly well that wasn’t the issue, damn him. “I have no doubt you gave him little choice in the matter,” he replied stiffly, even as Thor’s hands cupping his naked buttocks under the blanket threatened to make him roll his hips forward in wanton compliance. “You are as presumptuous and demanding in this life as any other.”

“You wound me, little brother,” Thor said, sounding not at all anything of the sort, and then he was kissing Loki’s neck again and squeezing his ass with more purpose, spreading him with those burning hot hands until Loki felt a ‘hngh’ trap itself in his throat. “As if I could ever make either of you do anything you didn’t want to.”

“Wise words,” Loki said, going for haughty, “if only you would actually heed your own— ahhhh. _Oh_.” Thor’s fingertips were slipping down the center of him, against his rim. He was still so sore and sensitive from the day before, and in this skin, the warmth felt strangely soothing. But then Thor was bringing one hand around to cup Loki from the front and he was so heated, Loki couldn't help but bucking forward with a moan as he _throbbed_ in Thor’s palm. 

And not just internally, for it seemed he still had something akin to a... gods, he didn’t know if he could bear to look or think of it. But then Thor was watching him, carefully, as he slipped his fingers below and behind. And there, Loki realized, despite his otherwise frozen features, it turned out he was molten at the core.

He made a regrettable noise, something more akin to a whimper than he was entirely comfortable with. Thor’s eyes darkened, nostrils flaring as he slid his fingertips through the delicate, slick flesh of Loki’s cunt. It stung to think that this strange Thor from a different world knew more of his anatomy in this form than he did, but Loki couldn’t deny the lust curling in the pit of his stomach. The way his body twitched forward without permission into Thor’s palm. He knew he was dripping in more ways than one. 

Loki clutched at the blanket, casting his eyes downward. Keenly aware that they were still sitting outdoors in the strangely-deserted harbor, shrouded in a thick mist though it was. Perhaps that was the Other Loki’s doing. He didn’t think Thor in any lifetime would have the patience to learn to control fog. The seagulls had even vanished, and the quiet lapping of the waves against the side of the boat were not nearly enough to drown out the slick noises of Thor fondling him.

Thor continued to stroke, playing with him without actually penetrating until Loki thought he might go mad with it. Whatever he had that passed for a cock pulsed mightily, though it felt somewhat different from the usual, and when he tucked his chin down and clutched at Thor’s tunic, the hand that had still been squeezing Loki’s rump drifted around to wrap his length in a hot, calloused palm. The fact there was even something left to grip was both relieving and worrisome. What kind of strange creature should need both— 

His thoughts were interrupted by the movements of Thor’s fingertips; just barely dipping inside his slit, as if seeking to curl further in. Although Loki cursed him, the thought of not having Thor’s fingers within him was suddenly unbearable.

“Fine,” Loki muttered darkly through his teeth, giving permission to debase him further, and he didn’t at all appreciate Thor’s low laughter as he pressed two thick fingers into him at once. Loki took a deep inhale, surprised at how well he seemed to accommodate them. It was tight, yes, but in such a manner that the stretch felt gloriously welcome, and he was surprised at how little pain accompanied it. Some part of him had perhaps _wanted_ it to hurt, to feel horrible and unnatural, but unfortunately this was proving to be terribly, hideously satisfying.

Thor leaned forward and kissed at the corner of his mouth, as if to erase Loki’s frown, which only made him scowl harder— but then he was letting Thor’s lips press against his, firm and insistent, before permitting that fiery hot tongue to lick into his mouth, melting him, playing against his own. 

It meant nothing, he reminded himself. Let Thor kiss him deep and thorough if he must; Loki's anger would keep until they were finished. 

Thor hummed against him, biting at Loki’s lip while he curled and stroked his fingers within. Loki tried to play off his sigh of pleasure as an annoyed exhale, but Thor wasn’t fooled.

“Enjoying yourself?” His deep, warm voice was still amused, but he was clearly after far more than this. Loki was almost tempted to give it to him, despite himself. 

“Not terribly,” he said, and Thor laughed, stroking at him delicately— which was just as well, as Loki felt on edge, over-sensitized like this. Close to snapping.

“That’s quite unfortunate, little Loki. I see I must work harder to convince you of the benefits of this form…” He flashed a cocksure grin that did unfortunate things to Loki’s innards, then released Loki’s cock in order to tug at his breeches. Loki’s mouth watered at the sight of Thor’s thick length bobbing free— and at the fact that he was so unashamedly pulling it out in broad daylight, the fiend. 

“Why don’t you test everything out before you make a proper decision on the matter,” Thor was suggesting and Loki felt whatever was left of his resolve crumbling away. He’d already done plenty to regret since setting foot upon the vessel— surely he could sate his perverse curiosity once and for all before he left this sordid place far behind.

With a growl, Loki batted Thor’s hand out and away from him, then rose up on his knees as best he could in the chair. He took a sharp breath, and then, before he could talk himself out of it, sank down onto Thor’s cock in one punishing, hard descent.

He was _ablaze_. Throbbing, aching, pulsing fire coursing through his every last nerve. Thor’s eyes were nearly black as they stared into him, and he clutched Loki’s back over the blanket to keep him steady. This wasn’t the ideal position and the chair was much too small, but Loki groaned and ground as far down on Thor as he could, til he could feel the coarse hair at the base of Thor’s cock rubbing against his flesh. 

His own cock was desperate for attention and Loki abandoned his tight clutch on the blanket to hesitantly take himself in hand. He felt different, yes, but oh, the sensitivity was glorious. He wasn’t going to look, but in this moment of monstrosity, he may as well touch.

Thor grunted, lifting his hips and then holding Loki in place by the waist, giving himself room to work. Loki gasped as the first thrust rocked him, and then Thor was fucking him with abandon, pounding up into him like Loki was purpose-built to take him. Oh fuck, it was _good_ like this— he was so slick and Thor’s immense girth seemed to pose no problem, yet he could feel all the sweet drag of him, could feel how very tight he was around his thick length, and again the lack of pain astonished him. 

But he had little time to dwell on it, for Thor was seemingly bent on giving him the fucking of a lifetime, punching a harsh sound from his lungs with each brutal thrust, the noises between them filthy and slick, and Loki squeezed his fist around his cock, completely overwhelmed by the heat of it all.

“You oaf, you’re about to—” was all he heard from behind them before there was a sudden jolt and a drop as they plunged backward toward the ground. Loki’s breath caught in his throat but Thor’s reflexes were fast, just held him tight and cushioned his fall.

They’d broken the damn chair.

The Other Loki dissolved into giggles, the obnoxious imbecile, and Thor just laughed at Loki and winked at him and kept on fucking up into him as if nothing had happened. As if he weren’t lying in a pile of rubbish on the deck of his filthy, godforsaken boat in the middle of a misty harbour, rutting into his Jotun pseudo-brother from another dimension.

“Really Thor, were you not raised better than this?” The Other Loki sauntered over alongside them, evidently appreciating the view— the blanket having slipped from Loki’s shoulders in the commotion. “Although, I suppose it’s no less garbage than you’d be fucking on indoors…”

“Shut up, Loki,” Loki found himself saying right as Thor did. They looked at each other in bemusement, and then despite himself, Loki was laughing with him for a brief moment. But then Thor bit his lower lip in concentration and brought his knees up, angling Loki forward with large, strong hands on his waist— and oh, now when he thrust, he was hitting Loki’s inner walls just right, just in the spot that he hadn’t been sure would even still be there, oh gods.

“Nghh, yes,” Loki found himself panting, bracing himself on Thor’s burning hot chest. He’d had to stop touching himself, finding the sensation was almost too sharp, too much while he was being plowed so vigorously. Perhaps if he wasn’t being jostled so much, if he could use more finesse, but he found he didn’t miss it; not with the way his cock slipped along Thor’s stomach with each jolt. Not with the way Thor was stretching him so deliciously with each thrust, filling him hot and thick and insistent.

“Clench down on him,” the Other Loki suggested, and when Loki did, he felt like he was seeing stars. Thor groaned and so he did it again and then again, falling into a rhythm with Thor’s thrusts so that each time Thor withdrew, Loki’s insides squeezed him tighter. He could soon feel a glorious, tingling heat spreading through him. 

He risked a glance up at the Other Loki, who was lounging on the deck with his crossed legs outstretched, weight resting on his arms behind him, still very blue with an unabashed erection in his breeches. Loki wondered for a brief second what it would be like to be that utterly shameless, then chided himself.

“Told ya,” The Other Loki said, a conspiratorial grin on his face. “We’re made for taking it big and rough and deep, but mm, mmm, there’s just something about that _feeling_ when you tighten down on him… total chef’s kiss.” He made a strange gesture Loki didn’t recognize, but the meaning was clear enough. “How is he, Thor?”

“He feels incredible. Now shut up, you cackling buzzard.” Thor groaned, letting his head fall back to the ground as his hips rocketed skyward. “Can you not let us seek our pleasure in peace?”

“Never,” the Other Loki twinkled. “I’m here to show him _all_ the little tricks this body has in store. D’you mind if I…”

And then he was scooting closer and Loki watched him as guardedly as he could manage, what with Thor fucking him so vigorously. The Other Loki reached out and brushed at Loki’s nipple with a touch so frigid, even he could feel it. Loki spasmed and yelped in surprise, clenching out of rhythm so that instead of tightening while Thor withdrew, he clamped down just as the head of Thor’s cock was about to surge deep into him once more.

Thor groaned as he pushed up into the unexpected resistance. Loki very nearly came right then and there. 

“See? Plenty of tricks.” The Other Loki waggled his fingers, scattering little ice crystals. “Feels amazing inside too.”

“What, the ice trick?” Thor grunted, having recovered slightly. “Oh… I hate that one.”

“He loves it,” the Other Loki confirmed, and then he was slipping his hands beneath the mostly-forgotten blanket to lightly touch Loki’s hips as they rose and fell. “Shall I show you what I do to him?”

“Don’t tease him,” Thor growled, which only made Loki all the more determined to know exactly what his counterpart had in store.

“Do it,” he said, and then the Other Loki was pulling the blanket away and slipping his fingers down to Loki’s swollen rim. His touch suddenly felt frozen cold again and Loki hissed as his body spasmed once more, the ice of those fingertips so close to Thor’s exceptional heat still pounding into him. 

“Nghh,” he replied, articulately, and then the Other Loki was slipping inside his still loosened hole and Loki felt the frost spreading within him, roiling against the molten fire of Thor’s cock, and between the two he felt himself wracked with pleasure, stupid with it, feeling so full of it he could burst, his teeth grit as it became almost unbearable, so much, so much, he was going to — 

And then Thor blessedly rubbed hard against him, just how he needed it, and Loki shattered, going to pieces as he spasmed between them, feeling a cascade of warmth between his legs, his cock spilling onto Thor’s stomach. Thor gave a mighty growl and fucked into him a few more times before he was coming deep inside Loki, filling him until Loki could feel it running back out of him with each diminishing thrust, the Other Loki’s fingers still working within him and leaving him weak and moaning.

“That’s a rather good look on you,” the Other Loki murmured, leaning in to bite Loki’s neck — for he’d evidently been sitting limply with his head hanging back, unawares. Loki gave an incredibly undignified whimper. 

“Thor, let me take him now,” the Other Loki continued, leaning forward over his shoulder. “He’s got a little left, I think… and there’s one more thing I want to show him.”

 

Somehow, Loki ended up on his back on the blanket with his upper body cradled in Thor’s lap, an indeterminate number of the Other Loki’s fingers thrust inside him— returned to their usual temperature— and pounding him hard and fast and mercilessly through the mess Thor had left in him. The angle was calculated to hit that spot just inside his entrance, but this time with such force that Loki could only writhe and grit his teeth and clutch at his own torso until Thor caught his wrists to keep him from tearing at himself. Being restrained only increased his aggravation but he wanted it even as he raged against it, for he knew Thor would not relent.

The Other Loki’s fingers were equally relentless, almost bruising, but still he needed more, needed harder, needed to break. If Loki had thought he might burst before, now he truly knew he might die like this— he couldn’t think, he couldn’t breathe, he was going to burst, he was raging, needed to _hurt_ something, it felt so strange and terrifying, the pressure building within him feeling dangerously familiar and foreign at once, and he wanted it but he couldn’t— he couldn’t— 

“C’mon now,” the Other Loki coaxed, voice low and rough with arousal, breathy from exertion. He pressed his other hand down flat against Loki’s lower abdomen as Loki writhed within Thor’s iron grip, which only intensified the agony. “I know you’re close.”

Loki squeezed his eyes shut, whined as he tried to hang on, but the Other Loki kept on ruthlessly driving his fingers into the spot that Loki faintly knew would prove to be his undoing. 

“Come now, little brother. Look up at Thor.”

Loki’s eyes snapped open, as if under a compulsion. Thor’s hands tightened on his wrists as he stared down into him, his piercing gaze softened only by the plea in his brow. There was no disgust in his expression; only an intense, desperate longing that made Loki cry out, his own face crumpling in despair, for he knew he couldn’t resist much longer.

“ _Loki_ ,” Thor said. There was no disobeying his command.

Loki bit at the air in his rage, then screamed voicelessly through gritted teeth as he felt everything in him snap, his back arching like a bow as it hit. Like a shower of bullets exploding from a gun, like lightning splitting the earth, he was gushing with such force he could feel it splashing back onto his thighs as the Other Loki fucked him through it, so hot on his cool skin, and ohh, it was wet, so wet, everything in him reduced to his base elements, a tidal wave obliterating all in its path— and even though his mind was swiftly going to pieces, Loki’s keen nose registered something sharp and strange that he vaguely, instinctively knew to be his own sex.

And then, just as quick as it came, it was over; leaving him juddering, foundering in its wake. The Other Loki was stroking gently within him now, bringing him back down, his chest vibrating with a pleased hum. Loki shuddered hard twice, thrice more, and finally felt himself collapse, deflate, utterly boneless against the deck and the blanket beneath. He distantly registered the fabric was soaked beneath him and couldn’t bring himself to care, his mind and body still reeling, trembling and shaking in Thor’s grip with the aftershocks. 

He’d never experienced anything so strange and sublime in all his years— and what with having been shared between them so vigorously mere hours ago and plowed by Thor mere moments ago, Loki thought perhaps he’d never been so thoroughly wrung-out and spent in so blissful a fashion.

Nothing felt real anymore; not even Thor’s warm hands stroking his hair and his jaw could fully tether him. Everything was quiet within him, only the soft warmth of pleasure still fizzling in his veins, the occasional spasm of an aftershock. He was adrift in a soft haze where nothing hurt… though he could barely bring himself to marvel at this, mustering at most a kind of dozy acceptance.

Finally, the Other Loki pulled his fingers free and Loki thought he saw him lick them clean. Absently marveled that his tongue should still be pink when the rest of him was not.

“Oh, look at you…” the Other Loki said fondly, with as little mockery as was possible for the likes of him. Cupping Loki’s cheek with a cool hand. “That was truly a thing to behold.”

Thor hummed low in agreement, petting his hair, and Loki’s eyes slipped shut, feeling himself begin to shake uncontrollably as soon as Thor’s grip loosened on his wrists. 

"Thor..." said the Other Loki, concerned, and Loki gasped in sudden fear, feeling lost and adrift in the fog of his own mind. But Thor just hushed them both, hauling Loki up and wrapping him tightly in his massive arms, all their immense power turned toward gentler purpose. Loki's spasms quickly settled down, soothed by the warmth and solid bulk surrounding him as Thor rocked him, cradling him close. Another, slighter hand came to rest in his hair, smoothing it back then stroking his shoulder reassuringly, and Loki finally felt the strange tension ebb away. He shuddered gratefully when Thor leaned down to press a kiss to his forehead, thankful that only a few tears welled up to prick at his eyes this time.

"He'll be alright," said the Other Loki, _sotto voce_. "One hel of a scrapper, this one."

“Aye,” Thor murmured to the both of them, and Loki wasn’t sure he’d ever felt more safe than in that moment.

“He’s really starting to grow on me.”

_xx_


End file.
